Nights of Jasmine
by Laredo Grissom
Summary: Sara Sidle is a weary traveler in India. What she finds there changes her life forever. GS angst, GSOC Sara has moved on... or has she? COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer:  I do not pretend to own CSI or make any money from the writing of this fanfiction.

A/N:  After last season and continuing into this season, I wanted to see a fic about Sara moving on without Grissom.  This is what I came up with.  I hope you enjoy this as much as I have writing it.  There should be a chapter posted each week.  I want to thank my beta's Marlou, my sister ACatFiend, WP1Fan and LSI for their help in keeping me grounded while writing this.

We all love to hear how we're doing, so please review and tell me what you think.

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**Sara Sidle is a weary traveler in the ****land**** of ****India****.  She's attempting to set her life back on track after the dismal living she's had in ****Las Vegas****.  Putting everything she's known for the last four years behind her, she set out on a journey of sensual discovery.**

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                As several co-workers greeted her with nods and smiles, Sara Sidle made her way through the corridors of the Las Vegas Crime Bureau.   Though she returned the greetings, she continued on her way to the locker room.  Four weeks away from the lab and her return –with a smile –re-ignited their speculation.

                Her eyes, alight with a new fire, encouraged their talk.  The last four weeks had been the most glorious four weeks of her life.

                With a soft giggle, she wondered who had won the betting pool in regard to when she would return –or if she even would.

                After clipping on her badge and settling her gun comfortably against her hip, Sara took a quick look at the pictures hanging on her locker door.  They held memories of enjoyable moments of her past; there would be new ones to add after her vacation pictures were developed.  With a quick flick of her wrist the door clicked shut.

                It was time for work.

                Before she could open the locker room door, it swung open and she took a step back as she saw and heard Nick and Warrick.  Their discussion stopped abruptly when they saw her.

                "Sara!  Hey, heard you'd be back tonight."  Nick pulled her into a bear hug then pushed her toward Warrick as he leaned in to do the same.  "How was your time-off?"

                "It was fine."  Her voice held a twinge of wistfulness.   With a tilt of her head, she tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear, hoping that the blood rising to her face would go unnoticed.  "I'll, uh… catch you guys in the break room –"

                "Did you know that you had a delivery at the front desk?"  Warrick interrupted.  He shared a wink with Nick then continued, "You must have made somebody miss you while you were gone."

                Her face fell at their teasing.  She could only think that it might be from Grissom –probably another plant.  Leave it to him to begin the games the first night she's back.  "Oh, well, I'll just get it after assignments."

                "You might want to do it now.  Judy has to duck around it when she answers the phone."  Nick smiled mischievously.  They wanted to see her face when she brought it into the break room.

                As she made the last turn to the reception area, she saw her delivery.  The other ladies at the desk watched with interest as she walked up to the counter.  She hesitated just a moment as she took in the sight, then leaned forward and breathed in the heady scent and a warm feeling of remembered belonging touched her memories.  It sent shivers coursing through her veins and her eyes twinkled with delight.  She touched the white blossoms and the petals danced on her fingertips.  Gathering the large vase, she smiled again at the ladies then took it with her toward the break room. 

                All heads turned to the door when a bouquet with legs walked into the room.  Warrick jumped up from his seat and took the over-sized bouquet from Sara's hands and placed it on the table.  She huffed with relief and thanked him then turned to see the others staring at her, or rather the flowers.

                Catherine nudged Grissom and smiled knowingly at him.  Grissom, though, didn't know what to make of her actions.  His blank expression didn't go unnoticed by her.  He watched Sara finger the flowers lovingly.  What had he missed?  She'd only just gotten back.

                "Wow, Sara.  Those are lovely."  Catherine moved in for a closer inspection.  The aroma beckoned her closer and she took a deep breath.  "They smell wonderful."

                "Jasminum grandiflorum," a quiet voice informed them.

                All eyes turned to Grissom.  His eyes still on the flowers, he didn't notice the attention given him.   "In the wild, jasmine is said to be unscented."

                Catherine glared at him.  "Is there anything you don't know?"  She turned back to sniff the blossoms again while Sara dreamily gazed at the flowers. 

                Sara shook herself out of her reverie and responded, "Actually, these are Jasminum sambac, also known as Arabian Jasmine.  They are scented.  Their heady scent will carry for long distances at dusk and they are believed to have originated in India."

                All eyes were on her now.  Grissom's eyebrows rose a bit, then, "It seems that you know a great deal about them.  A new… hobby?"

                "No," she drawled.  "I learned a great deal about them on vacation."

                They all slowly began to sit at the table.

                Warrick chuckled, "Where'd you go, India?"

                "Yes, actually."

                "How'd you afford that?" Nick asked but grunted immediately when Warrick kicked his shin under the table.  "Ow, what did you do that for?" he asked, glaring at his friend.

                Warrick shook his head in disbelief.  "You don't ask things like that, man."

                "It's all right."  She glanced at Nick and gave him a wink.  "Overtime came in handy."

                "Jasmine… isn't that what they use in the Aromatherapy line?  Sensual I think is the term."  Catherine recalled as she took another whiff of the scent.  "Mm hmm… yep that would be it."  She looked pointedly at Sara.  The deep blush spreading over her face clued Catherine in that there was meaning behind the flowers.  She investigated further, but frowned when she saw no sign of a card.  "There's no card, Sara.  Who sent them?" she asked, shooting a quick glance toward Grissom.

                "No, there wasn't one."  She let the silence lengthen.  "He wouldn't need one."

                Grissom cleared his throat, ending the discussion.  They had work to do, after all.  "We do have a busy night, so we'll have to cut this short.  Nick, Warrick, you have what was thought to be a smash and grab on Las Vegas Boulevard but they've found a DB.  Take your time on this one." He turned to Catherine, handing her a card.  "You're solo tonight.  Sexual Assault, the girl has already been taken to Sunrise Children's Hospital."

                "Children's?"  Catherine asked, stunned.

                "She's a minor," he said, then glanced in Sara's direction.

                Sara didn't know if she liked the implication but she didn't allow it to bother her.  Her eyes roamed over the petals of the bouquet again, and sighed.  Nothing would get to her tonight.  Before she realized it, Nick, Warrick and Catherine had all started leaving the room.  It was then that she realized only Nick and Warrick had truly welcomed her back.  Things hadn't changed. it seemed.  She noticed Grissom's eyes on her and wondered what he was thinking.

                She wasn't about to find out.

                He cleared his throat once again, but this time not for attention.  It seemed he was gathering his thoughts.   "We have a DB out by Lake Mead.  Grab your kit.  I'll meet you at my office."  And with that he was gone.

                Sara shook her head, muttering, "Yep, nothing's changed."

                It was a long drive and, at first, there was only silence to keep them company.  Sara stared out the window, her attempts to catch a glimpse of the stars proved futile.  The lights from the city were still too bright to really see them.  She'd caught a few of the brighter ones, but that was about all.  She remembered that just a few nights prior she'd been able to see them clearly.  Before her mind could wander any further, the silence was thinly cut by a soft question.

                "Did you enjoy your vacation?" Grissom asked, almost in an undertone.

                Sara shook her head to clear her thoughts and bring her back to the present.  She looked over to her companion and wondered what he was thinking.  He surely was contemplating the flowers and who'd sent them.  Offering that kind of information was beyond her limits.  "Yes, I did.  It was very… satisfying."

                Grissom took his eyes from the road ahead and stared at her.  Something in her inflection was unnerving.  She'd meant a double entendre in her statement, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

                "Was it really a vacation or were you job hunting?" he asked directly.

                Sara exhaled a long breath.  Well, he's certainly cutting to the chase.  She would do the same.  "No, I wasn't job hunting.  The thought of taking another job wasn't even a consideration.  I honestly took the leave for a vacation."  She smiled.  And what a vacation it was.

                "Were you there the whole time?"  He questioned as though he were interrogating a suspect.  She wondered at his intent.

                "Pretty much.  Why?  What are all these questions for?"  Her head tilted, considering why he was so interested.

                He shrugged.  "Just curious."

                She stared at him wide-eyed, watching him check the mirrors as he made to switch lanes.  "Curiosity killed the cat."

                What exactly did she mean by that?  She'd returned to staring out the window and he studied her in solitude.  Her implication was that he'd get hurt by his curiosity.  He glanced back at the road, took in their location and flicked on the turn signal.  They were approaching their turn-off.  The crime scene wouldn't be much further.

                The sound of the tires rolling across the seams of the roadway resembled the sound of her train ride across India.  She closed her eyes, breathing in deeply as her mind drifted in memory of the day that truly began her vacation.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N:   I need to make sure that everyone understands that this is not a G/S fic but rather a G/S turning to S/OC fic.  There are hints and spoilers from the show of the G/S 'unship', but Sara will be moving on in this.

For those who will continue to read this fic, as promised, here is the 2nd chapter.

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Approaching Kolkatta, West Bengal ~ Near Dusk

                Like a feline, waking from a restful nap, Sara stretched in her seat, breathing in deeply.  She hadn't relaxed in such a long time, she felt strange –drugged even.  Her eyes opened, widening perceptibly as she took a deeper breath.  She sniffed again, closing her eyes as she concentrated on the scent in the air.  The window was down and, with another zephyr, the scent became stronger.  Her head tilted closer to the opening and she took another long deep breath.  She couldn't get enough of it; she'd have to find out where it came from.

                With the crowd of people on board this train, she wondered that she'd been able to relax at all.  A glance around the train car indicated that her surroundings hadn't changed.  The only difference was the scent wafting in through the open window.  Looking through it, she could see more stars than there were lights in Las Vegas.

                The stars began to fade as the train drew closer to Kolkatta.  The scent in the air also changed, mingling with the smell of spices.  The train finally rolled to a stop.  She slipped her back-pack on then gathered her other two bags and headed for the exit.  The crush of people wanting to get off the train slowed the progress, but soon, she found herself staring up into open sky and looking at the few stars that were still visible.

                A half hour later, she entered the hotel.  A young boy, maybe twelve or fourteen, animatedly encouraged her to let him carry her bags.  She allowed him to do so, and he led her over to the registration desk.

                "Namaste," she greeted the clerk.  "My name is Sara Sidle.  I have a reservation for two nights."

                "Good evening, Miss Sidle.  We have been awaiting your arrival."  The clerk smiled and indicated, with a wave of his hand, that she should sign the registry book.  The man's English was very good and she'd had no problem understanding him.  Picking up the pen, she put it to paper and signed her name.  In the few seconds it took, the clerk had retrieved her key, placing it on the counter next to the book.

                "Your room is 318.  If anything is needed, please let us know."  He then snapped his fingers and the boy came running forward with her bags.  "Vijay will show you to your room."

                "Dhanyawad," she thanked him and gave a short nod of her head as she followed the boy to the elevator.

                Her room was tastefully done, but not over-extravagant.  The overtones of red were everywhere, but it wasn't the blood red or bright red associated with brothels.  The hint of orange or yellow, mixed with the primary color, subdued it to soft rust.  The boy, Vijay, had placed her bags on two luggage trays then stood and waited.  Having already spent one week in India, she was already well acquainted with the customs.  She handed him a coin and dismissed him.

                This was certainly a different area, located on the eastside of India and on the edge of the Bay of Bengal.  A little further south and she'd be at her final destination, Piyali.  It was on the edge of the Sundarbans National Park.  In two days, she'd once again be on a train for a short ride to the resort.  She opened the window on the farthest wall and felt the cool night air bathe her skin.  She took a deep breath and although she could still smell the spices in the air, the scent she had earlier picked up on was much more pronounced.  It was heavenly.  She would have to discover its source in the morning.  But her mind could only think of now and what she wanted most ­–a hot shower and to sleep. 

                SARA STRETCHED her long limbs, groaning lightly from her sore muscles.  The extensive walking from the last week proved to her how out of shape she was.  But she was determined to continue, working out her sore muscles with more of the exercise.  It was obvious to her that the sun had not yet risen.  The thin gauze that made up the curtains, blowing gently from the early morning breeze through the windows, would not have been enough to keep the light out.

                Still, she rose and began her stretches.

                A half hour into her exercise, a glint of light peeked through the curtains and she strode over to them, drawing them back with both arms so that they hung in the air, outstretched, as if she were praising it.  The warmth of the rising sun was already strong and she felt the heat warm her body.  Dropping the curtains back, she stepped away and headed out of the room to do a bit of shopping.

                When she turned from locking the door, she stumbled upon seeing a familiar face standing no more than three feet away, in the doorway across from her room.  A look of stunned recognition from him and she knew that he remembered her too.

                "Hello… again," he greeted, a smile tipping the corners of his eyes up in amusement.

                "Hello."

                "Perhaps introductions are in order."  He offered his hand and she took it.  "I'm Aeric Devereaux."

                "Sara Sidle."  They shook hands, but she withdrew quickly –her flesh burning from his touch.  She recovered quickly and asked, "Are you following me?"

                His chuckle filled the silent hallway.  "If I were, do you think I'd admit it?"

                Sara bit her bottom lip.  The question had been more direct than she'd intended.  "No, but then many suspects aren't smart enough to lie."

                His eyebrow arched.  "Suspects?  Are you a policewoman?"

                With a shake of her head, she answered, "No."

                He tilted his head, his eyes seemingly looking through her, the dark brown depths mirroring her own curiosity.  "You work with them though, correct?"

                "You're good," she answered.  "I do work with the police.  I'm a CSI –Crime Scene Investigator."

                "Oh."  His eyes scanned her as if not believing her words.  Before he could say anymore, a door opened further down the hallway and a head popped out, looking in their direction.  The man's hair poked out at all different angles and he wore a black mask over his eyes.  He cocked his head at a strange angle, staring at them.  The rest of his body was blocked from view by the wall, making him appear as though he was coming through the wall.

                A small snicker escaped from Aeric before he firmly grasped Sara's elbow and guided her down the hallway.  "Perhaps we should take this outside where people aren't still sleeping."

                For some reason, Sara allowed him to direct her.  She glanced at his face, and saw the determination apparent in his set jaw.  If she didn't know better, she'd think this was staged.  They reached the elevator and he asked, "Going down?"  She nodded and they entered.

                His hand released her arm, but she didn't move away.  Before the doors closed, she peeked out again.  The man from the doorway was still staring out into the hallway.  The smile returned to her face and she couldn't help the burst of laughter from deep within.  Aeric stared at her, slack-jawed, until he also joined in her laughter.

                When the elevator stopped on the first floor, both were out of breath.    Aeric stabbed the stop button with his finger to keep the doors from opening.  Sara shook her head, wiping at the wetness on her cheeks.   "All he needed was a cape to go with that mask."   She held her stomach and doubled over from the pain of laughing too hard, while Aeric attempted to support himself by leaning against the elevator wall.  By the time Aeric released the doors, they'd composed themselves appropriately.

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                Grissom put the Denali into park; Sara didn't move.  He turned the motor off and watched for any indication that she knew they'd stopped.  Her lack of interest in their location, let alone the case, puzzled him.  Where is she?

                "Pleasant memories?" he asked kindly.

                Her eyes refocused after registering his words.  His reflection mingled with the background of the dark sky.  The reflection faded, reshaping into a warm, intimate face from India.  The twinkle of dark brown eyes, hair gently blowing in the air and a sad smile made her breath hitch.

                With a quick flick of her fingers, the door opened and she jumped out.  Grissom, made speechless by her abrupt exit, winced, realizing he'd hit upon a nerve.  Something had occurred while she was away –something significant.  Whatever it was, she didn't seem to want to share it… with him.

                Later, wearied by the night's events, Grissom carried his tired body to the locker room preparing to head home.  Another solved case to add to his teams solve rate and yet he felt unsatisfied.  Every case took him that much further away from understanding people.

                Before he opened his locker, his head fell against the cool metal.  Not only did the case affect him strongly, but also Sara's behavior toward him had changed drastically.  He'd waited in his office for her visit, as she always did after a hard case.  This night she didn't.  She'd already left, on time in fact.  The old Sara always came in early and always stayed late.  If this was a permanent change, whatever had brought it about had to have been a strong influence.  He knew she had feelings for him, and yet he'd never succeeded in getting her to let go of a case so easily.

                Nick entered at that moment and Grissom shuffled quickly to assume a natural posture.  "Hey, Gris.  Good to have Sara back, isn't it?"

                "Uh, yeah, it is."  He had no idea how to respond.  It was good to have her back, but he longed for the days when he had an inkling as to what she was feeling.  Now, he wasn't so sure.  Their performance at the crime scene was as any other time.  They always worked well together and seemed to read each other's minds.  That same symbiotic relationship was still there and yet, it was different.  He shook his head and put on his jacket.  "Sleep well, Nick.  I'll see you tonight."  With that, he left the lab and went home.

                Alone.

                Sara also went home alone.  But unlike Grissom, she didn't feel it as profoundly.  She'd found the satisfied feeling of a job well done returning, after it had been missing for such a long time.

                The flowers in one hand and her keys in the other, she juggled as she unlocked the door, kicking it shut behind her.  The weight of the vase and flowers were taking their toll and she rushed over to place them on her island counter.  The scent carried through her apartment and immediately a smile lit her face.

                Sleep was a long way off yet, so she pulled out a kettle to heat water for tea.  She rummaged through one of her unpacked bags by her bed and pulled out a canister –jasmine tea.  While waiting for the water to boil, she changed clothes and put her hair up in a ponytail then grabbed her journal.  It was something new she'd started when she began her trip and decided to continue with when she'd gotten back.

                The kettle whistled and she set the tea to steep as she began her writings.  So many thoughts swirled through her mind.  What to put down?  She grinned giddily.  Start with the best.  She snipped off a small blossom with her fingers, handling it delicately.

                _My first shift back and I received the jasmine bouquet.  It reminded me of that moment in __India__ when I first smelled their intoxicating scent; it also reminded me of that last night in his arms._

_                Of course, Catherine had to ask who had sent them.  Tact was never Catherine's middle name.  Nick seems to be taking lessons from Catherine.  Warrick, I think, understands or at the very least, suspects.  Grissom was his normal analytic self.  He seems to think I found a new diversion with the flowers, like his collection of butterflies… a hobby.  If he only knew how far that word was from describing the changes I've made in my life._

_                I almost feel guilty at how I compare Grissom to him.  There is such a difference between them –an openness I never shared with anyone before.  And yet, Grissom hasn't changed at all.  His questions were the only thing that showed he had an interest in where I had been.  I wonder if he even thought about me while I was away.  There was no 'welcome back' from either him or Catherine.  If it hadn't been for the guys, I'm sure no one would've said anything._

_                Before I left, this would've torn at my heart.  Now as I sit here, writing this, there's no self-pity over it._

_                I really have begun to change._

                She laid her pen down and took a sip of her tea, staring down at the blossom she'd snipped off the bouquet.  Glancing back at her journal, she decided to end it there for the day before she got maudlin.  She picked up the flower, placing it gently between the pages before closing the book.

                Taking her cup with her, she went over to her bed and placed it on her nightstand.  Her accumulated mail sat next to it.  With a sigh, she grabbed it and started filing through them.

                Way too many magazines, she thought.  She piled them up.  Fifteen different magazines and all of them were, in some way, work related.  For a moment, she thought it was strange, that was until she glanced around her apartment.

                The computer, the police scanner, and her books filled her apartment.  The few photos she had on her shelves were of her and her co-workers, one or two of family.  This place had become work, away from work.  She took a mental inventory of the websites she'd saved on her computer.  They were all in some way, again, connected with her work.

                Grissom's words in his interrogation with Dr. Lurie came back to haunt her –_allowed their work to consume their lives._   Another quick glance at her belongings sent her into a whirlwind of action.  She grabbed her magazines, holding them in one arm as she walked to the police scanner and, with the other hand, she unplugged it.  The magazines she took with her to the kitchen and threw in the trash.  Upon turning back around, she caught sight of the police scanner again and realized it was on battery back up.

                She turned it off.

                The pictures stared back at her vacantly.  She felt no connections with the memories they brought to mind.  What to do?  A glimpse at her open, but unpacked suitcases, gave her the idea.  She grabbed her purse and keys and left her apartment.  A change in her apartment was needed and she had some photos to pick up.  They would be the perfect pictures to add to her others.

                When she returned, she emptied her sacks on the bed and began replacing her curtains, adding more flowers to the room and placing some of her photos in frames.  She sat on the bed and picked up one of them.  The photo had been taken toward the end of her time in India.  They were laughing.  He'd just told her a story about one of his misadventures while shooting a photo of an ostrich in Kenya.  Chuckling, she thought about his tale of the ostrich.  He had been trying to capture its 'regal' pose on film when, in his great surprise, the huge animal charged him.  He back-pedaled, but in his attempt to get away from it, he tripped over his feet and fell back on his rump into a thorn-thistle patch.

                Her laughter from the memory of his tale overwhelmed her until tears streamed down her face.  The laughter turned to anguished tears when she realized what she'd walked away from.  Sure, they'd made arrangements to meet up again… in a couple of months.  But that was a couple of months away.  "I want him now," she cried aloud, flinging herself back on the bed, burrowing her face into the pillow, soaking it with her tears until, finally, sleep found her.


	3. Chapter 3

                Was there anything better than a dream about re-living a sensuous night?  Sara didn't think so.  She lay on her side snugly under the covers, dreamily staring off into space, with her hands tucked beneath her face.  The dream had been very vivid, as if she'd been there.  Her smile grew.  Well, of course I was, she thought.  The dream had been a bit more erotic, but it was very close to the real thing.  

                As she stretched languidly, a hand grasped her hip and pulled her closer, turning her onto her back.  A low chuckle emerged from her throat as lips descended upon hers.  Mumbling, she muttered, "Good morning to you too."

                "Did you know you talk in your sleep?" he teased, whispering softly as he snuggled against her neck, the sound of sleep still in his voice.  The stubble from his unshaven face tickled her nerve endings.  It made her heart skip a beat to realize that he'd remained until the morning with her, not skipping out at the first chance he got.  He pulled back to look her in the eye when she remained silent.

                Seeing his worried look, she quickly replied, "Umm, no, I didn't."  Licking her lips as he bent closer to her, she asked, "What, umm, what did I say?"

                A grin appeared on his face, "My name… repeatedly."  His fingers found her sides and he dug in.

                She let out a yelp as he tickled her until she couldn't breathe and she gasped, "Stop, stop!"  Her laughter died as she drew in a lung full of air.  When she thought she'd recovered enough, he took her breath away again by laying another kiss on her.  It began slowly, almost teasingly.  With increased pressure, her mouth opened for him and his tongue tasted her sweetness.  They broke the kiss shortly after, staring into each other's eyes.  Her hand reached up and tangled amongst the long strands of his hair.  The look in his eyes was tender, almost reverent.  This past night was not a fleeting thing for him.  She knew deep down, that within the next few weeks, he would be by her side nearly at every turn.  But it was much too early for such deep ponderings; she'd only known him a few days.

                With a saucy grin and a quick flick of the sheet, she threw it off and toppled him over onto his back so she could straddle his stomach.  She sat up, flipping her hair back and placing her hands on his chest, the muscles beneath her fingertips rippling from her touch.  His body, already responding to hers, raised parallel to her.  His mouth tasted the flesh just above her breast then trailed lower to capture her nipple tenderly between his lips.  He teased it with his tongue until the softened tip became a hardened pebble and then he suckled it.

                Her hands cradled his head as her eyes watched him.  Before long, her head fell back and a groan escaped, turning into a gasp as his mouth left her, but then she hummed in delight as he descended on the other; giving it the attention it was due.  The heat between her thighs built into a raging fire and she squirmed against him for release.

                As if on cue, he lifted her, positioning her over his hardened flesh and reveling in the feel of her warm center surrounding him.  His breath caught in his throat and his head fell against her chest, relishing the feel of her.  Suddenly, Sara flipped her head back up, grasping his head with her hands before taking his lips with her own in a crushing kiss and grinding into him with wild abandonment. 

                She knew it wouldn't be long.  Every reach and each grasp brought her that much closer.  Her breathing became ragged as a blinding light filled the back of her eyes.  With a whimper, she withdrew from the kiss, his thrusts making it hard to think of anything else.  She arched her back, while his hands supported her firmly.

                His eyes traveled down to their joining, and the sight aroused him even more.  With another thrust, purposefully hard, he groaned his release as her inner muscles spasmed around him.

                They fell back on the pillows together, his arms wrapped around her body that was still lying atop of his.   It was with a deep sigh from them both that they found sleep again.

                HOURS LATER, Aeric woke her with a soft kiss.  Her eyes fluttered open and took in his appearance.  He'd showered and dressed, and was sitting beside her on the edge of the bed.  "Going somewhere?" she muttered.

                He nodded.  "I have to meet with the park administrator in a half hour."  He reached forward and tucked her hair behind her ear –the gentleness of his touch was not lost on her.  "Would you like to meet me tonight for dinner?"

                She sat up on her side, leaning on her elbow.  "Hmm, I'd like that.  Where were you thinking?"

                He grinned mischievously as he glanced around the room.  "I was thinking of here."

                I was hoping he would say that, she thought.  "I think that would be best, don't you?"

                With a quick flash of a grin, he swooped down and captured her lips, pressing her firmly back into the mattress.  And just as quickly, he pulled away and stood.  "I'll see you at seven."

                She sat up to say something, but before she could, he was gone.  Touching her fingers to her lips, she smiled warmly, and then fell back again, pulling the sheets up over her bare chest.  She'd never expected this turn of events when she set out on her vacation.

                The thought of why she'd even been on vacation, now pressed heavily upon her.  She'd gone the entire night without one thought of Grissom or the team.  The smile turned into a frown as she considered the differences between Aeric and Grissom.  For a fleeting moment, she felt as if she were cheating.  Her heart ached and tightness formed in her chest.  She wasn't about to let past regrets ruin the memory of her night or the pleasant memories she was making here in India.

                When she'd decided to take her lengthy vacation, it had been over much intense self debate.  Leaving Las Vegas wasn't what she wanted; however, time away was a constant thought as she worked long hours, day after day.

                She'd left the vacation request on Grissom's desk and after one extremely long shift, she approached him about his answer.

                _Standing in the doorway, she waited a few minutes until he noticed her presence and lifted his gaze up from his files.  "Sara.  Is there something I can do for you?"_

_                "Umm, I thought I'd stop by before heading home to see if you had signed my vacation request."  She waited briefly for his answer before walking further into his office.  He'd glanced down at the many piles of paper on his desk and then finally pulled one out that had been buried.  She noted that it had indeed not been signed.  "I know it's a rather long length of time, but it's all accumulated vacation hours."_

_                "I know that.  But I have to wonder why you're taking it all at once."  His gaze fixed on her and she felt the depth of his scrutiny.  "Are you doing this to look for employment elsewhere?"_

_                Her eyebrows lifted.  She hadn't thought that he would think that.  No, actually she had considered that, since she'd asked for a leave of absence before.  "No, it's not.  I just wanted to plan a good trip and I do need the time for it."_

_                She could see in his eyes that he didn't believe her.  Did he really think she was lying?  That she'd use her vacation time as an excuse to go job hunting when she'd just told him she wasn't?  If so, then he didn't know her at all._

_                "Sara, I don't think that we can do without you for four weeks."  He handed her the request form back.  "Why not just take one or two at a time?"_

_                Her eyes went from his face to the paper, stunned that he was refusing her.  She worked her ass off, day after day, week after week.  Her work hours were always higher than the others.  Nick would be receiving the promotion and yet she was the one that worked hardest.  Her blood began to boil.  When she looked up from the paper back to Grissom, her eyes squinted and Grissom squirmed in his seat from the piercing gaze.  "I was thinking that four weeks was pretty reasonable, but if you don't think so then maybe it might be easier if I just ask for a leave of absence for an additional five months… or maybe I should make that a year."_

_                The belligerence in her voice shocked him.  She'd gone from the quiet, respectful Sara he knew to an almost mirror image of a demanding Catherine.  The image it gave him scared him to his bones.  It then occurred to him that maybe this vacation time was necessary to her well-being.  He'd seen the diminishing of her joy in her work over the past year.  That wasn't quite it, because her work ethic hadn't changed, just her attitude.  Her face and skin were paler, her hair had lost much of its luster and she never smiled anymore.  He had to wonder if he wasn't part of the reason why.  He could see in her eyes that she wasn't backing down and had meant what she'd suggested.  Four weeks wasn't that long of a time compared to the leave of absence.  He held out his hand and took the sheet back when she handed it to him._

_                She watched him quickly sign it and place it in his Out box then left his office without another word._

                The two weeks following that exchange were some of the most trying nights she'd ever experienced working at the lab.  When her last shift was over, she left in a hurry and didn't give the lab another thought until she was on the plane for India.

                Now, lying in this bed and rethinking the night, she knew one thing.  She had to move on.  And move on she would.  Grissom had made his choice, or actually, didn't make his choice.  He was too late.

~~~~~~~~~~~

                Grissom sat at his table, silently eating his 'breakfast'.  His quiet contemplation was of one subject.  And her name was Sara Sidle.  Sleep hadn't come to him, so he'd read, and surfed, and cleaned his apartment.  No matter what he did though, she always appeared in his thoughts.  And whenever she did, the hairs on the back of his neck rose.   He couldn't erase the thought that she'd moved on.

                "But it's only been a month," he mumbled through a full mouth.  Brass had informed him, shortly before Sara left, that she'd heard his little speech while interrogating Dr. Lurie.

                At first, he was devastated to know that she'd heard him, but that soon gave way to feelings of relief.  Knowing that she'd heard him had given him hope that perhaps she'd force him to look at his decision in a different light somehow.  Make him come to terms with why he'd made that decision and that she was there, now, waiting for him. 

                Now, he wasn't so sure.

                Feeling overwhelmingly dejected, he dropped the spoon back into his bowl, the milk sloshing out of it onto the table.  His elbows came to rest on the table as his hands cradled his head.  Suddenly, his fist came crashing down on the table and he stood with resolution.  "No, not yet.  I'm not going to give up without a fight."  With that, he grabbed his jacket and keys, shut off the lights and headed for the lab.

                But, as he approached the lab, his strength of courage waned.  He didn't know how to go about 'this'.  When he pulled into a parking space, he stared with a heavy mind at the building.  Whatever he did, would it be enough?  He'd seen her face when she'd been looking at the flowers.  The man that sent them to her had driven him from her thoughts and he knew she'd thought about him throughout the remainder of the night.  He would have to play this carefully and not move forward without a plan.  The thing was… he still needed more time. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N:  As promised, here is chapter 3.  It's truly amazing that so many are enjoying this fic.  There's been such a focus on Grissom and Sara that I really wanted to see what would happen if Sara truly moved on, not just going to the next one in the office or not even trying to live her life.  I hope those that are fans of the g/s ship that care for the character of Sara will enjoy this story.

And a huge thank you goes out to Marlou and ACatFiend for their undying support.  Without the two of you, I don't know what I would've done the last couple of weeks.  Your thoughts and comments about where the story is and where it is heading show some great insight.

Please, after reading this, review.  Constructive criticism is always needed and wanted.


	4. Chapter 4

                Flipping through the mail, Sara sat heavily on her bed.  It had been five weeks since she'd last seen Aeric and two weeks since she'd last received word from him.  The first three postcards and two letters filled her days with joy.  It was nice being thought of, but now, two weeks without a word and it worried her.  He could be hurt, he could just be really busy or… she didn't want to think that, but with her luck with men she couldn't ignore it.  He could just not be interested anymore.  Her heart sank.

                A tear escaped its boundary and trailed down her cheek.  She swiped it away with her hand and stood.  Still, she would hold hope in her heart and that she would still make her date with him that they had set for two weeks from today.  If he didn't show… it would be his loss.  It was time for work.  It seemed that, until then, work was all she had.  

                With her head held high, she left the confines of her apartment and went to the lab.  She'd made it with only ten minutes to spare.  Quickly, she unloaded her duffle bag and grabbed her ID and gun, then went to join the rest of her team in the break room.

                She'd just taken a seat when Grissom entered.  Without much small talk, he handed Nick and Warrick a slip, directing them, "Hit and run, should be pretty simple.  If you get time after handing in the evidence to the labs, find us at The Mirage."  Looking over at Sara and Catherine, he nodded for them to follow, "We have a DB and the press is already there."

                Grissom drove while Sara sat shotgun and Catherine was in the back.  Grissom had just related the few details he'd been given and all three were quietly dissecting it.   In a soft voice, he said, "Sara.  I got your time off slip for the twenty-ninth.  I don't think I'm going to be able to let you have it off.  Nick already asked for it and it's Catherine's scheduled night off."

                Sara turned from the window and stared at him.  That was the night she'd asked off to meet with Aeric.  She already had the following two nights off after that, but felt it would've been all right.  Hell, she'd worked all of that overtime the last couple of weeks.  Turning back to the window, she stared out at the passing lights of the Strip, unseeing.  Damn, what am I going to do?  She could try to ask Catherine to switch a night, but didn't feel that she would be amenable to it.

                Minutes later, they entered The Mirage and were immediately swarmed by reporters and photographers.  The Sheriff was present and he directed the awaiting officers to help them through the throng while he drew the press back to him.

                Grissom nodded at him and they followed the officer toward the elevator.

                It was another high profile case and Sara was beginning to feel that she was just along for the ride.  Catherine was already taking the lead, even over Grissom, by directing them to do certain work.  Her first words to Sara were, "Snap some photos of the crowds.  We can't depend on the security cameras with this many people around."  She did as she was told.

                While in the midst of photographing the crowd, she heard a voice from behind her ask, "Miss Sidle, is that you?"  She recognized the voice but couldn't quite place it.  As she turned around and came face to face with an elderly woman and her husband, she put two and two together.

                "Mr. and Mrs. Carnahan, hello, what brings you to Las Vegas?" she asked.

                "It is you.  I was just telling Henry that it must be you."

                "Yes, that she did."

                "Are you here because of the murder?"

                "Yes, yes I am."  Her shock at seeing the older couple was just starting to fade away as she asked again, "What are you doing in Las Vegas?"

                Mr. Carnahan looked pleased with himself, pushed out his chest and said, "My wife has an affiliation with gambling and I love to travel in foreign countries.  So, I compromised, two weeks in India for me and two weeks in Las Vegas for Frannie."

                Mrs. Carnahan looked to her husband with adoration.  "Isn't he the best?"

                Sara smiled a large gap-toothed grin at them.  They were an adorable couple that she and Aeric had met while in India.  They'd even shared several meals and one guided boat tour with them.

                "You know, you'll have to come back here when you've done your job.  We have some delightful photographs that we took of you and Aeric in Piyali and on the boat.  I had copies made, intending to send them to you."

                At that moment, Sara felt a hand on her elbow and she turned to stare in her boss' blue eyes.  "Sara we're going up."

                When she looked past him, she saw Catherine standing just behind him.  She wondered how long they had been there and how much they had heard.  The last thing she needed was questions about who Aeric was.  And if anything, she knew that Catherine would ask.

                They walked in silence to the elevator, where an officer was holding the doors open for them.  As the numbers climbed, taking them to their destination, Catherine glanced at Sara and asked, "So, friends of yours?"

                And so it begins.  "Yes, they are.  I met them while in India, a nice couple.  We had dinner with them several times."

                "We?" Catherine asked, an amused smile turning up the corners of her eyes.

                Damn.   How did I let that slip?

                The doors opened at that moment and they moved out, but not before Grissom shot her a quick glance.  She could almost see the glare behind it.  What was she supposed to do?  Allow him to keep playing the games that kept hurting her over and over?  No more.  She met his glare with wide guileless eyes and walked past him, following Catherine.

                While she sat in the layout room, she felt a presence beside her.  It wasn't Grissom.  She looked up and saw Catherine eyeing the clothing they'd gathered off the victim.  "Anything, yet?" she asked.

                Sara sighed.  It had been a long night.  A lot of evidence, but nothing to go on.  She leaned back in her chair and took off her gloves, throwing them on the table.  "No, nothing.  No hair, no fibers, and no prints or impressions."

                Catherine took the seat next to her, nearly sounding as defeated as Sara.  This case was going nowhere fast.  "Maybe we should get a fresh look at this tonight.  It's now two hours since shift ended."  She eyed her co-worker with a speculative eye.  "Care to grab a drink before heading home?"

                Sara stared at her moment, contemplating her invitation.  She knew Catherine was fishing for information.  But Sara wasn't up for it.  Catherine would just have to try and bait her another time.  "I don't think so.  I need to get home.  I have a few things to do before I can get some sleep."  She had a letter to write and send.

                Ten minutes later, she was in the locker room, closing the door to hers when Greg came rushing in.  He was hurrying as if he needed to get somewhere fast.  "Whoa, Greg.  What's the rush?" she asked, chuckling.

                "Hot date and I'm late."  He paused a moment.  "Hey, I'm a poet and didn't even know it."  They both shared a laugh at his rhyme.  Stopping in his hurry, he said, "Those were nice flowers you received."

                Sara looked at him as if he were speaking another language.  "What flowers?"

                "You know.  The ones you got the night you returned from vacation," he explained.

                "Oh.  Yes they were."  Her smile reappeared as she remembered them fondly.  She grabbed her duffle bag and walked past him.  She was about to say 'goodnight' when he said something that stopped her in her tracks.

                "Grissom really knows how to pick 'em, doesn't he?"

                She swung around, her duffle bag nearly slamming into one of the lockers.  "Excuse me?"

                "Well, you know.  Grissom has good taste.  Jasmine has a very intoxicating scent.  He –" Greg hesitated.  Something in her eyes told him he needed to stop before he got left behind altogether.

                "Greg, I don't know where you heard that Grissom gave me those flowers, but you, and they, are wrong."  She shook her head, "It would never occur to him to do such a thing."

                "Well, umm, I, uh…" he stammered.  He'd overheard Catherine, Nick and Warrick discussing the blooms.  It seemed like it was definite whom they came from.  "I just thought that since he'd sent you that plant a couple of years ago that he sent these also."

                Sara repositioned her bag on her shoulder again and then asked, "You think he sent those to me without being coached?"

                "Well, yeah."  Greg looked puzzled a moment and then his eyes enlarged as a thought came to him.  "He is an intelligent man."

                Sara huffed.  "Greg, he is a very intelligent man.  But like me, he's not socially adept.  I knew why I'd gotten the plant and it was a nice thought that he sent it.  However, the moment I got it, I knew it hadn't been his idea."  She turned to leave.  "Someone put it in his head to send it.  That much I'm sure of."  And she could say that, because she'd overheard Catherine tell Warrick, with much smugness, that she'd given Grissom the idea.  But she'd already made her decision to stay and taken back her leave slip, so she'd never said a word about it and the plant continued to flourish in her window.  She would always cherish it ­–he had sent it after all.

                Leaving Greg with that last thought, she left the lab and hurried home, but when she got there, she remembered that she was supposed to meet the Carnahans for breakfast.  It was a little diner she'd suggested to them before leaving the hotel earlier that night.

                She walked in and told the waitress who she was looking for.  The waitress nodded, andn escorted her to their table.  The older couple had vacated their booth to welcome her with hugs.  It almost brought tears to her eyes.  She'd only known them for a short time and yet it seemed as though they'd been life-long friends.

                They once again took their seats, but Mr. Carnahan sat with his wife now, giving up his seat for Sara.  With a flourish, Mrs. Carnahan wasted no time and presented a packet of photos to her.

                She pulled the pictures out and began flipping through them, keenly aware of their amused gaze.  She came across a picture of her and Aeric.  They were dancing.  It was a slow song, and he held her close.  The moment of his first words of endearment to her had been captured on film.  She remembered that moment all too vividly.

                But before the warmth she felt coming on reached her cheeks she shuffled the pictures back into a neat pile and laid them on the table.  It would not do for her to get caught up in her memories while the Carnahans were present.  She smiled sheepishly.  "Thank you.  You don't know what this means to me."

                Mr. Carnahan chuckled softly, "I think I do, my dear.  I just hope things didn't end for you back in India."

                Sara shook her head.  "No, we have plans to meet up in a couple of weeks.  I won't be able to meet him exactly when we had planned so I'm going to have to write him and let him know."

                "My, but that is a shame," Frannie exclaimed.  "Is work, once again, taking up all your time?"

                Sara explained, "I'm afraid so.  I'm not going to be able to take that night off.  Two of my other co-workers already have it off, leaving us short-handed."

                "Well, if anything, Aeric will understand.  In his line of work and his traveling, he knows what it's like not being able to make it on time, I'm sure," Henry soothed.

                "Yes, I'm sure he would," Sara agreed.

                But a niggling doubt remained at the back of her mind and wouldn't go away.  Would he actually be there?


	5. Chapter 5

                Carelessly Sara dropped her duffle bag to the floor, kicked off her shoes and locked the door behind her.  Her visit with the Carnahans had been refreshing, if not a bit wistful.

                Forgetting her bag, she immediately went to fix a cup of tea, but then remembered the photos, and retrieved them from her bag, as well as her journal from the nightstand.  After fixing a quick sandwich and pouring her tea, she took a seat at the island and began flipping through the pictures.

                This time, now that she was alone, it was with a bit more thoughtfulness.  She suddenly realized that several of the pictures were of times when she hadn't known the older couple was present.  In all of them, she and Aeric were smiling.  Well… with a few exceptions, they were not unhappy times, but rather more serious than usual.

                Sara dropped the photos on the counter and took a small sip of tea.  She thought back on the first time she'd laid eyes on him.  The smile that reached out through the photo touched her heart.  The picture was of him and her sitting in a booth they'd been sharing with the Carnahans.  His arm was around her shoulders, holding her close.  He'd been very charming that night, attentive not just to the conversation, but also to her.  She'd caught him more than once watching her.  A warm feeling spread through her as she remembered how happy she'd been that night.  He'd shared a very private and emotional part of his life with her earlier that day, trusting her with it and not expecting anything from her in return.  It had given her a sense of belonging that she hadn't felt in a very long time.

                Meeting this man had changed so much in her life in such a short time.  Thanking whatever higher power there was that he'd come into her life, no matter how long it was for, or would be, she leaned back in her chair and recalled the first time she'd seen him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                Sara was attempting to put her carry-on bag in the overhead compartment with great difficulty.  She knew it would be a long trip and had brought along a couple of books, and some snacks.  But she'd also kept her camera in it along with a small walk-man stereo so she wouldn't have to listen to the in-flight movies or the conversational chatter that would soon enough fill the cabin.  The bag was just too big to fit in the overhead.

                A male voice beside her asked if he could help.  With another hardy shove that didn't seem to budge the damn bag, it was now stuck in the opening.  She gave up and waved her hand at it.  "Go ahead, give it a try," sarcasm lacing her words.

                A flash of a smile met her eyes and she took a step back, almost stunned by it.  The man's back was to her and she could only observe his backside.  And what a backside it was.  The muscles underneath his shirt strained against the tight fabric as he reached up to handle her bag.  With a couple of deft moves the bag was soon inside the compartment and the man suddenly was facing her.

                "There.  If you have any problems with it later, let me know," he offered, nodding toward a few seats ahead of hers.  "I'd be glad to be of assistance."

                She mumbled a dumbstruck, "Thank you," then watched as he stepped forward and took his seat.  She had no idea what to make of her reaction.  It wasn't as if she had never seen a handsome… ok, devilishly handsome, man before.

                She shook her head and took her seat.  Romanticizing the moment was beyond her abilities at that moment.  She'd had enough romantic fantasies to last her a lifetime.  Besides, she'd probably never see him again once the plane touched ground.          

                But her assumption had been wrong.  Two days later she did see him again while shopping in the Emami Market.  He was across a stall from her, talking with a man, a native she guessed, given his appearance.  In the midst of a gesture, he turned and caught her eye.  His conversation came to an abrupt halt, and then he nodded an acknowledgement to her.

                She smiled kindly and moved on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

                And that, Sara mused as she took another sip of tea and realized it had gone tepid, was the last she'd seen of him, until, like kismet, she learned three days later that not only were they staying at the same hotel, their rooms were across the hall from each other's.

                As she put the tea kettle back on the burner, she was surprised to find that the stove was still on.  This wasn't the first time in recent days that she thought she'd performed a task only to realize she hadn't.  It would seem that her romantic fantasies had returned to haunt her, this time with Aeric as the main attraction.

                While she waited for the water to boil, an entry caught her eye.  

                _Today was certainly interesting.  I spent the whole of it traveling the city with a man named Aeric Devereaux.  He seems friendly enough and he knows quite a bit about the area.  He's not a native, but his olive skin and dark hair and eyes lend him the appearance of belonging in this area._

_                It's strange that I've seen him before.  The first time was on the plane and then I saw him again in the market. He's on a short vacation before going back to work.  It makes me wonder why he's here.  This isn't a place you can take in within just a few days._

_                He didn't at first strike me as the intellectual type, but without any argument, he accompanied me to the Birla Planetarium.  It was one of the main places on my list to visit since it's the second largest planetarium in the world.  I quickly learned that this man wasn't all brawn.  He was pointing out the constellations and putting an enthusiasm to the dry facts that seemed to bring them alive.  I kept quiet and listened to him.  He really knew what he was talking about._

_                When we left there, it was time for lunch.  I thought he'd leave, having other sites he'd wish to see.  Instead, we continued discussing the planetarium and the history behind it.  Before I knew it, we were in front of a small restaurant. We went inside and I ordered the Aloo Koraisutir Malaicurry and he had some sort of dish consisting mainly of prawns.  I hope I didn't butcher the spelling of my dish but it was absolutely wonderful!  Afterwards, we grabbed a tram that took us to the National Library._

_                I don't know why, but I just felt completely comfortable with this man.  Well, that is until he asked me if I wanted to have dinner with him.  It just struck me as wrong.  Something inside recoiled at the thought._

_                I declined.  So now, here I am, in bed early, writing this.  I guess I should get some sleep though.  Tomorrow should be another busy day._

~~~~~~~~~~~~

                Sara flipped the book closed.  They had an arrangement to meet in two weeks in Pahrump.  What was she going to do?  Maybe there was a way she could get a hold of him.  I wouldn't be easy; it would take time and that wasn't something she had.  She was tired and only had five more hours before she had to return to the lab.

                With a heavy sigh, she picked up her journal and returned it to the nightstand.  Within minutes, she'd washed her face and changed into a t-shirt and boxers and climbed into bed.

                The thing was she wasn't tired.  She entwined her hands behind her head and lay staring up at the ceiling.  Her thoughts revolved around one thing, one person.  And she had no idea where he was.  She knew where they had been, but not where they were headed.  A few weeks ago she thought she knew; now she wasn't so sure.

                She remembered his face when she declined his dinner invitation.  It must have been the same expression she'd had when Grissom refused hers.  The two men were nothing alike, except for their age.  Aeric was forty-four while Grissom was almost forty-eight.  Aeric had an insatiable urge to laugh, about anything, including himself, while Grissom would make small puns or jokes, but rarely laughed.  

                Grissom held an air of mystery, one which Sara had always found intriguing and worked hard at deciphering.  It was a challenge.  To Sara there was never a challenge she met that she didn't like.  

                Aeric, on the other hand, was an open book.  She knew about his family, his parents, both of whom were still living.  She understood why he travels and enjoys doing so.  She understood his love of animals.  However, his love of humanity grated with the humanity with which she had personal experience.  Maybe that was for the best; she'd seen so many awful things caused by 'man' that she had an encumbered view of it.

                Grissom drove her to always analyze, to be objective, to never assume, while Aeric helped her discover a different view, another way of looking at things that showed the inner, as well as the outer, beauty.

                And Aeric, unlike Grissom, was willing to take a chance.  Life wasn't going to pass him by.  Their first date proved that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

                "Hello, again," Aeric greeted, leaning indolently against the door of his room.

                Sara strode down the hallway, her keys swinging next to her within her grasp.  Her eyes traveled the length of him, noting his attire of black slacks and a purely white muslin shirt with the top button open.  The shirt was in stark contrast to his olive skin.  "Hello," she replied pleasantly.  "Are you leaving?"

                "I was," he drawled.

                She stopped before her door and glanced back at him as she went to unlock her door.  "So, you aren't now?"  She noticed his door was closed.  "Did you lock yourself out?"

                "No… I thought I'd try my luck again and ask if you'd join me for dinner.  Or perhaps you're too tired after your excursions today?"  The amusement in his voice drew her attention back to look at him.  He was smiling and it made her feel guilty, as if she'd lied to him about her reasons for not joining him the night before.

                "I really was tired last night," she stated firmly.

                The laughter died away from his face.  "I didn't mean to imply you weren't being truthful.  I'm sorry if I did that."

                For the first time, Sara heard an apology from a man about a possible offense.  She hadn't really taken it as an offense.  It was more about her making sure he understood.  "No, I didn't think that.  I, um…" vacillating briefly, she decided resolutely that she wouldn't remain idle.  "Were you going to ask me to dinner?"

                He stepped back, a reaction from her abruptness.  The woman had a hidden fire that he was uncovering, albeit slowly.  "I believe that's what I said."

                Sara turned back to her door and opened it.  "No, you didn't, you said you were going to try your luck again and ask me."  Turning back to face him, she continued, "You haven't actually asked."  She watched his lips turn up into a grin and she decided then and there that he should always have a smile on his face.

                Stepping closer, his eyes piercing hers, he asked, "Would you have dinner with me tonight?"

                "I would love to."  She heard him exhale and it warmed her to realize he'd been anxious for her answer.  "Would you give me a few minutes to freshen up… maybe a half hour?"

                "Certainly.  I'll just go make reservations."

                With a tilt of her head, she shyly smiled at him then entered her room and closed the door.  She turned back around and peeked through the peephole and saw a huge smile on his face as he looked up to the ceiling, words forming on his mouth.  He moved away from the door, and away from her view.  She rested her forehead on the door and inhaled deeply.  A half hour, she said.  That was barely going to give her time to shower and change.  She hurried to the bathroom.

                With lively steps, Aeric strode to the elevator; his intention was to make a reservation with the hotel's restaurant.  However, when the elevator dinged its arrival, he changed his mind and went back to his room.  There was another place he had in mind that he hoped she'd enjoy more. 

                Almost to the minute of a half hour later, Sara opened the door of her room to catch Aeric about to knock.  His hand fell to his side and his eyes strayed from hers down her slim body, and back up to her eyes.  Normally, she'd be a bit terse with someone staring at her so, but the way his eyes traveled over her, she felt desired.  Her heart skipped a beat and she licked her dry lips nervously.  "I'm ready."

                "Yes," he breathed, his eyes skimming over her once again.  "Yes, you are."

                She smiled.  As always, she made the men in her life tongue-tied.  She'd taken most of her little time dressing; at last, deciding on an Indian red silk blouse, the top two buttons left open, with light cream silk slacks that flowed about her legs as if she were wearing a skirt.  The added touches to her outfit were the sandals.  The wide strap across the base of her toes was adorned with tiny multi-colored jewels sewn into the leather.  The two-inch heel caused her no undue concern as Aeric was a good several inches taller.  Her toes had already been painted the night before in a similar shade of red to her blouse, and she'd donned her newly acquired gold toe ring.  Nick had often told her she was stunning in red, and judging by the look that Aeric continued to give her, he hadn't lied.

                Aeric seemed to gather his senses and held out his hand.  She took it gingerly and stepped out of her room.  Aeric shut the door, and hand-in-hand, they strode to the elevator.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                Drifting off to sleep was proving once again to be difficult.  Her thoughts weren't filled with dread or recriminations.  She didn't have to lie awake wondering what Aeric's' turn of phrase meant or if they were laced with double entendres.  No, what she had to worry about now was how she was going to meet up with him in less than two weeks.

                She turned on her side, lifting her head to punch her pillow in frustration then lying back down with a heavy sigh.  Was it ever going to get any easier for her?

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A/N:   I must apologize for the lateness of this chapter.  It just wasn't what I expected it to be.  But with LSI and Marlou's help, I think we turned it around.  The next chapter, however, will be much later due to real life.  My 2nd job is playing havoc with me this week.  I'll see if I can't get out the next chapter, not this coming weekend, but possibly the next.

Please give me some feedback!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N:  I've finally decided to release this next chapter.  I've been on a role these last few days and writing the following chapters has come pretty easy and quickly.  I, hopefully, should have the next chapter up by next weekend.

A Time for Love is waiting on LSI's timetable.  Underneath It All is pretty slow going.  If anyone has any ideas on that one, write to me from my website.

Enjoy!

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                The doorman held the door as they walked out into the warm air.  Aeric leaned in closer to Sara and asked her if she wanted to take a rickshaw or the city tram.  "Most definitely the tram.  I'm not too keen on the idea of using a human being like a horse."  He nodded in agreement and they walked the couple blocks to reach the Tram. 

                Once on board, they took a seat toward the back, with Sara sitting next to the window.  She hadn't ridden on the Tram yet, having done most of her site tours on foot.  She noticed that Aeric left a good several inches between them on the seat.  It was odd, to say the least.  There had been a feeling that she couldn't shake that this man was arrogant and overconfident, but what she was seeing tonight, within the last few moments, was a man that considered his actions thoroughly before he made a move.  However, she also saw a carefree spirit mingled within.

                Aeric grinned at her then leaned closer and softly asked, "Did I tell you that you look beautiful tonight?"

                Sara shook her head, but returned the smile.  "I don't believe so."

                "Hmm, well let me rectify that."  He reached up and brushed a tendril of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear.  "You look beautiful tonight."

                She was breathless and looked shyly away.  A quick glance back at him and she saw him straighten in his seat, putting the distance back between them.  At first, it was reassuring, but in the next instant, she regretted it.  The regret was a familiar feeling and she could've remained there, wallowing in it, like it was an old friend.  However, something stirred within her, something akin to obstinacy.  Self-pity was quickly shoved to the back of her mind and locked away.  She was tired of playing it safe; it was time to take a risk.  Leaning closer to him, she asked, "So, tell me Aeric, where are we going?"

                "There's a restaurant, Sonargaon, which is part of the Taj Bengal's hotel.  Their cuisine is very close to authentic without actually eating in a private home."  Instinctively, as he watched her move closer, he did likewise.  Their thighs just barely touched and he put his arm on the back of the seat.

                "Do we have a while to travel yet?" she asked.

                He glanced out the window then nodded.  "Hmm hmm… it's a little bit further, close to downtown."

                "Since we have some time and you already know what I do for a living, why don't you tell me what you do?"

                "Okay.   I'm a photographer."

                Sara's eyebrows rose, not expecting that answer.  "Any specific type of photos?" she asked, now a bit suspicious.  He wasn't about to tell her he takes photos of models, was he?  That would be such a turn off for her.

                His deep-throated chuckle threw her off guard as she saw the twinkle in his eyes.  "Not those kind of photos.  I mainly photograph animals and sometimes landscapes.  I work for National Geographic."

                Sara's relief was audible as her held breath released in a heavy exhalation.  "National Geographic?  Really?  Nice!  Their pictures are awesome.  I've never seen a picture of theirs that didn't make me catch my breath.  Is that what brought you here?"

                "The Sundarbans National Park did.  I'm headed there for a shoot of the endangered tigers –"

                "So am I," she exclaimed, interrupting him.  "I mean… not to photograph the tigers, but I'm heading there tomorrow afternoon."

                "To Piyali?" Aeric asked.

                "Yes.  I'm staying at a new resort they just finished constructing."  She finished abruptly as she saw him nodding in agreement.  "You're going there too?"

                "Yes, but in a couple more days."  He was about to say something more, but the tram came to their stop and he stood and waited for her to precede him.  When they stepped down to the street, he thoughtfully guided her along the busy sidewalk.  He pointed upward to a large crescent shaped building and said, "The Taj Bengal, our destination."

                Soon after entering the restaurant, Sara found herself being seated at a cozy, candlelit table.  The little illumination from the candles produced an air of romantic interlude even within the large dining area.  She studied the interior, noting the mezzanine floor and a water well, tucked invitingly into a corner of the room, with the pulley and bucket hanging from it.  The walls were decorated with half-opened windows and other nooks and crannies.

                "It's enchanting, isn't it?"

                The deep voice beside her recalled her to her senses.  She'd been staring so intently at all the nuances of the establishment that she'd been ignoring her companion.  To make up for the small slight, she nodded with a huge gap-toothed smile and then, "It's lovely.  They've carefully paid attention to the details."

                "And they're just as attentive to the entrées.  Their main dishes consist mostly of shellfish and other seafood.  Would you prefer something with chicken or beef, or  –"

                "Seafood will be fine," she found herself interrupting again.  "I don't eat meat," she added.

                "But you're not a vegan then?" he asked.

                "No.  Eggs, milk and fish are all right.  I just don't… enjoy meat."  Her mind wouldn't allow her thoughts to remain idle.  The image of curly hair and rich blue eyes disturbed her thoughts.  She shook her head to dispel them.

                "Is something wrong?" he asked.

                "Uh, no.  I just remembered something.  It's nothing."

                Aeric surmised that wasn't true, but kept his thoughts on it to himself.  He'd noticed that this woman, who sat across from him, radiated a sad and lonely existence.  Deep in thought, he shifted in his seat; all the while contemplating if perhaps he could . . .  God only knew how much it had taken for him to pull himself out of the same rut.  His only hope was that what caused her despair wasn't the same reason for his own, just a few short years ago.

                Before he could succumb to the grief-filled memories, a waiter approached and the sudden awkwardness that had fallen about them was removed.  She'd barely had a chance to look over the menu and she noted that Aeric hadn't even attempted to.  "What are you having?"

                Aeric smiled warmly, pulling himself from the thoughts that nearly drowned him in despair once again.  Turning to the waiter he stated, "I'll have the _Jhinga__ Hara Masala_.  It's my favorite here."

                With a raised eyebrow, the waiter agreed, "Yes, it's truly delightful, very refreshing."

                Sara's eyes darted back from one to the other, unsure if it was a private joke or if they really meant it.  "What's the main ingredient in that?"

                Both said, "Prawns."

                With a small hesitation, she agreed to have the same.  She was in India; why not try something new even if she hadn't heard of it before?

                The waiter left after finishing their order, which consisted of an appetizer and a bottle of wine.  While they waited for it, their conversation diminished and they were left in silence.  It wasn't quite companionable and yet it wasn't uncomfortable.

                "You seem to know quite a bit about this city.  Do you come here often?" she asked, attempting to break the silence, but she hadn't intended on asking her question in quite that manner.  She felt the heat rise up over her cheeks and the smile on her lips wasn't one of amusement.

                But he was amused, and his chuckle made the heat of her embarrassment deepen.  "And I thought it was us men that used that line."

                The waiter returned with their wine and he poured a teaser into Aeric's glass.  Aeric swirled it around for a brief moment and then lifted the glass to his lips, breathing in and then taking a small sip.  It was a good choice and he nodded to the waiter to pour.  Sara, after watching him test the wine, did the same thing.  She'd never been one for drinking wine and preferred a cold beer instead.  But she lifted the glass and followed his example.  It wasn't like anything she'd had before.   She'd always thought that white wine was dry.  This wasn't dry, but it also wasn't overly sweet.   "What kind of wine is this?"

                Aeric took a sip and set his glass back on the table before replying, "It's made from the Riesling grape.  They can be dry, but most often you'll find they are fruity."

                "I usually don't like wine."  She took another sip and then set her glass down.  "I think I could get used to this."

                "What do you like to drink?" he asked.

                She would've answered, however, she remembered that she'd asked him a question and he hadn't yet answered it.  "I think you know more about me than I do about you.  How about evening that score?"

                At first, he wasn't sure what she meant and then he recalled her earlier question.  "Fair enough.  No.  I don't come here often.  But I have been here before.  I was here about a year ago for a shoot in Tibet.  I discovered then that I really enjoyed this country or at least this portion of it."

                Sara nodded in understanding.  "Yes, there are some areas that are breathtaking and others that, well, you hold your breath but not for the same reason."

                "There's no middle ground.  You're either wealthy, or not.  It's rather sad."

                "Depends on how you look at it.  I think I'd rather be without money.  It certainly doesn't bring happiness."  Sara's eyes drifted off a moment and lingered on a couple across the way.  They were of the wealthy type –older, but certainly wealthy.  At first glance, they appeared to have found that happiness even with their wealth.  She wondered if it was true.

                "They seem to have found it."  Aeric met her eyes then nodded in the couple's direction.  He'd watched her as she looked at them.  Remembering that she was an investigator, he wondered if she ever looked at anything, or anyone for that matter, without analyzing them.

                "Yes, they do.  I wonder how long it took them though."

                Their meal arrived and the aroma wafted up from her dish, titillating her nose.  If it tasted anything like it smelled, she was going to enjoy it.  When the waiter left, she took a small bite of her food.  Her eyes met his and then a smile lit her face.  "This is wonderful!"

                They finished their meal, with light discussion throughout.   Afterwards he asked her if she'd like to walk through the Botanical Gardens.  She agreed and they took another tram to the gardens.

                After a short stroll, they noted that the sun was setting and they, in silent agreement, remained where they were to watch it.  The sun changed from a golden yellow to a burnt orange-red, transforming the sky into a breathtaking view.   The sky appeared on fire and Sara thought of all the scientific reasons for it doing so.

                Their silence was broken when Aeric whispered, "The sunset dances across the sky."

                Sara moved closer to him, her interest piqued.

                "Red, orange and gold.  Nature holds its breath, as the colors coalesce softly in your eyes."

                She gave him a questioning look and he shrugged.  "I try sometimes."

                "You just made that up?  Just now?" she asked incredulously.

                He nodded.  She smiled a gap-toothed smile and he thought the sunset paled in comparison.

                They both turned and walked on silently until Aeric narrated a couple of stories he remembered about the gardens.

                Within moments they were completely enshrouded in darkness; the lights that were scattered about the park were nowhere near them any longer.  Sara began to realize the foolishness of being so secluded with a man she barely knew.  Her defenses went up and she stopped so abruptly that Aeric had continued walking not having noticed that she was no longer beside him.  When he did, he turned back around, but could barely see her.  "Sara?  Where are you?"

                "I'm here.  I, um, I think we should go back."  Her voice quavered a moment, then with a bit more decisiveness to her tone, she said, "No, I mean, we need to head back now."

                Aeric didn't miss the inflection and wondered what would have caused it.  "Is there something wrong?"  He walked toward her voice and was quickly able to see her expression.  It had gone from carefree to a hardened, defensive stare.  He reached out for her arm, but she backed away.  It was then that the dawning realization of the situation came to him.

                "Oh."

                Sara frowned.  "Oh, what?"

                "I understand."

                She crossed her arms over her chest and asked, "Understand what?"

  
                "You're right, we should head back."  He started to walk past her the way they'd came, but she didn't budge.

                "I'm right about what?"

  
                She heard him sigh and then slowly approach her.  His hands snuck out and captured her arms in their grip, though tender as it was.  "I'm sorry, I didn't think.  It's dark and secluded here and for your knowledge and what you've probably seen in your line of work, I'm sure this looks very… unsavory."

                Sara nodded, indicating that he assumed correctly.  He let go of one arm, but kept a hold of the other and guided her back to the main pathway that was subtly lit.  "Thank you," she offered.

                He shook his head as he released her other arm and held open the small gate where they were able to depart from the gardens.  "No, I'm sorry.  I should've thought this out a bit more."

                The evening continued on in silence with just a few barely audible mutterings from both, until they reached their hotel rooms.  He waited while she opened her door then said, "Sara, I hope you won't hold this against me.  I'd like to see you again when we're both in Piyali."

                She hesitated before entering her room then leaned back on the door jam.  "Aeric, it really is all right.  I just… I get uptight about certain situations.  You're right.  I have seen a lot of things in my line of work.  It's made me be cautious, sometimes overly so."  She bowed her head and sighed, and then with a tilt of her head she let her gaze fall on him, lingering momentarily on the frown that she knew she'd been the cause of.  "I don't really know you, Aeric, but I think I'd like to get to know you better.  Let's just take this one day at a time, okay?"

                With a nod he stepped back and said, "Good night, Sara.  Pleasant dreams."

                "Goodnight, Aeric," she replied, then entered her room and shut the door between them.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: With some gentle prodding from a dear friend, I have been convinced to continue with this story. So chapter 10 is in the works and I am going to upload chapters 7 through 9 to catch up anyone who hasn't and still wants to read this fic.

* * *

"Sara, I got the results for the Henderson case. Did you want to pick them up or should I hand them to Nick?" Greg asked as he caught up with her in the hallway. She'd seemed a little pre-occupied, but that didn't stop him from getting her attention. 

"Umm, yeah, sure, give them to Nick." Her eyes never met his, but rather were glued to her pager that she'd unclipped from her belt. She walked away, leaving him standing in the hallway.

The pager read, _Grissom's office - ASAP_. What now, she thought. The last few days had been trying. It seemed that Grissom had taken up his preoccupation of watching her, studying her as if she didn't know he was near. Then there were the instances where the physical contact had returned; a hand just barely grazing the small of her back, or a grasp of her elbow, only to release it once they'd headed in whatever direction he'd wanted them to go. Of course, it seemed that he was purposely assigning them to the same cases. It wouldn't have been a problem a couple of months ago, but now, it just felt awkward.

Her footsteps echoed through the halls as she approached his office. The door was uncharacteristically closed, so she knocked lightly. When she didn't get an answer, she knocked again with more force.

There was a hurried, "Come in," and then she opened the door.

Grissom was standing next to his terrarium, feeding his tarantula. In the midst of dropping a live cricket into the glass case, he turned to see who had knocked. "Oh, Sara. Come in. Please close the door." He capped off his jar of crickets, placing it next to the case then turned to take a seat, not behind his desk, but rather in one of the guest chairs.

Unaccustomed to this behavior, she hesitated.

"Come in, take a seat." He patted the other chair, and Sara raised her eyebrows in wonder. Something wasn't right with this picture. Who was this man?

"Uh, Grissom. What's going on?" she asked, not taking the proffered seat.

He grimaced, knowing he was acting completely abnormal, his insecurities the cause for his strange behavior. "Please, Sara, have a seat. I want to talk to you."

Cautiously, she took the seat and turned in it so that she could face him. "What about?"

His lips twisted into a near pout, something that Sara had seen on his face before when he was contemplating something she'd said. She waited patiently this time however, as he considered his words. Her patience was quickly rewarded.

"Us."

Or punished.

In previous months, that word would have spawned all sorts of tingling sensations throughout her body, including her brain.

Not this time.

Now she sat impassively, staring at this stranger sitting before her, wondering what in the world had possessed him to make such an utterance. With a shake of her head in disbelief, she asked, "Us?"

He nodded, as if he thought she understood what he'd meant.

"Define 'Us'."

He blinked, and then a ragged sigh escaped between his pursed lips. He motioned with his hand between them. "Umm… you and me?"

Sara shook her head. "No.

She stood abruptly and so did he. "There is no 'us', no 'you and me'."

"Sara, please, can we talk? I know things have changed over the last several months, particularly the last two, but I wanted to ask if you'd have dinner with me… tonight."

She could see this was hard for him. He struggled with the words, taking shallower breaths as he tried to speak. But his words felt like a dagger, creating a whole in her being and stripping her skin away. After all this time, after all the smack-downs and the avoidances, she was astounded that he would even try. "No."

She could see that he hadn't expected this answer from her. The wheels in his thick skull were turning. Hers were also and if she didn't leave now, they'd both regret what would happen next. So, with a final shake of her head, she walked out of his office, shutting the door behind her. It wasn't time for her to leave yet, but with her accumulated hours, she'd be sent home soon anyway. So she hurriedly retrieved her jacket from her locker, and slipped out into the night.

Grissom, on the other hand, could only stare after her, her last word haunting him as he remembered the time that it had been his answer. Her turn of phrase had hit home, and left a gaping wound in his heart and in his pride. It had taken him the better part of a week to pull together enough courage to attempt to ask her out. He'd felt confident enough that she'd at least take him up on it to talk it out, but her abruptness left him feeling whipped.

He knew he'd hurt her. It was apparent in everything about her –her appearance, her attitude and her behavior. But what he'd done just moments ago… did it deserve such treatment by her?

Suddenly, his ire rose and his blood boiled. If anything, he felt that he at least needed to be able to hear it from her lips that he was 'too late'. He grabbed his jacket and keys, rushed out of his office and straight into Catherine.

"Whoa there, Gil. What's lit your fire?" she smirked.

"I don't have time. Only two hours left in the shift, think you can handle it?"

"Well, yeah, of course, but –"

"Good, talk to you tomorrow night. Bye." And with a quick nod, he left a speechless Catherine standing in the hall.

Sara's drive home had been spent airing her frustration with Grissom to her enclosed car. Upon reaching her apartment, though, the tension had not lessened. At first, she wanted nothing more than to climb into a hot bath, but after having reached her bedroom, the only thing she wanted was to change and veg. No thoughts of work, no wracking the brain over the evidence of one of the many cases the team was working on and… no man.

She crossed her tiny dinette, grabbed a bottle of juice from her fridge and then settled into her single bed. With her television remote in one hand and her juice in the other, she snuggled against her pillows, prepared to fall into a mind-numbing daze of weekday morning talk shows.

No such luck.

A soft knock at the door, just as she was tuning out everything around her while watching Regis and Kelli, jolted her from her stupor. Mildly annoyed at the disturbance, she pretended not to have heard it, hoping the person would think she wasn't there.

With another knock, louder this time, she knew that whoever it was wasn't going to leave her alone. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and quickly shuffled to the door.

She was stunned at the sight of Grissom on the other side. Pulling away from the door she stared at it as she nibbled her bottom lip between her teeth; there was no mistaking why he was at her door.

The echo in the hallway of shuffling feet drew her to look out the peephole once again. He was facing the door, a look of apprehension marring his bearded face. His eyes darted to the peephole.

"Sara, I know you're there –"

Her shoulders slumped in defeat. It was now or never. "Grissom? What are you doing here?"

"We need to talk." She could hear the determination in his voice. "I've put it off for too long already."

The weariness was also plainly evident in his voice, and it tugged at her heart. She opened the door and met his gaze. His shimmered with pent up emotion, too much emotion if what she saw was correct. He looked at her, then past her, inquiring silently if he was allowed to enter.

She waved her hand toward the inside and he followed immediately, almost as if he were afraid she'd slam the door on him if he took too long.

After shutting the door, Sara turned and nearly collided with him. His eyes clear and observant were absorbing everything within his line of sight. They darted over to the now dried bunch of jasmine shoots she'd hung on a string near her bed. Sara had seen him do this many times, at a crime scene. He seemed to be searching for something, some evidence.

She broke the silence, dreading every word that led her further to the discussion they needed to have. "Grissom, why are you here?"

Looking over his shoulder to her, he said, "You once said that you always over-talk around me. So, now let me talk."

Raising fine, arched eyebrows, she was about to protest, but gathered her wits about her and realized that she was in fact interested in hearing what he had to say. She deserved at least that much, and so did he.

"Okay," she drawled, stepping around him. She walked into the kitchen, stood at the island, and peered at him through interested eyes.

He in turn, nervously stepped forward to the other side of the island, facing her. His hand found its way to his lips and wiped an imaginary crumb from them. Sara knew from this small action that he was brainstorming –and nervous.

"You've," he sighed and shook his head. "There was a time when neither of us held back from saying what we thought. We understood each other. I know something changed that. I don't know when or why it did. Do you know?"

Astonishment at his choice of words made her hesitate in her response. She'd never understood him. They had a remarkable ability to relate with each other when working a case, but he'd always remained a mystery to her. But as for the 'when things had changed between them', she couldn't put a finger on it.

She shook her head.

He bowed his and slumped into a breakfast stool. "When I asked you to move here, it was a conflict for me. When you lived in San Francisco, it was… safe. I was safe." He looked up at her tentatively. "But having you near me and working so closely together, at first it was exciting, stimulating. Then it was no longer safe. I found myself in a situation that was difficult to control." His gaze met hers, hoping to see understanding, but found confusion instead. Her brow was creased, as she concentrated on his words. "Am I making sense?"

She shook her head. He was confusing the hell out of her.

"When you were in San Francisco, there was a freedom in our conversations. But when I asked you to move here, to work at the lab, you became my subordinate and I had to be careful. Not just for myself, but also for your own good. I'm not blind, Sara. I knew you had feelings for me a long time ago, before you even came to Las Vegas."

Her eyes brightened in surprise.

"Yes, I did know. But what I didn't know was that it would become so easily apparent to those we worked with. Or at least, I didn't think it would happen so quickly. Suddenly, I was no longer a ghost, but completely visible to those around me. I knew that they could see right through me when you were near. And my first reaction was to try and conceal myself again. That meant putting you at arms length."

"Then I wasn't just imagining things. You did feel something for me?"

"Yes," he surrendered. "I do."

She heard his words, heard the present tense. Her mouth opened to continue, but he interrupted her.

"No, let me finish." He stood again and inched his way toward the end of the island. Her eyes followed his every move.

"I got scared, Sara. And before I knew it, I came up with excuse after excuse as to why we couldn't be together." He began ticking them off on each of his fingers. "My age, my supervisory status, your career would be put under scrutiny, my career would falter, and your reputation would be smeared."

She stammered, trying to refute his words and lost track of where he was. Before she knew it, he was standing mere inches from her. The heat of his passion emanated from him, coating her with warmth to soothe her apprehension. His finger landed on her lips, stilling them. Their eyes held and she watched in awe as this man she'd loved for so long, grasped the back of her neck then dipped his head, taking her lips with his mouth, rendering her speechless.


	8. Chapter 8

Her lips quivered and her hip where his hand lay blazed. Being kissed by Grissom, returning his kiss, had been a dream – a fantasy that she'd re-lived timelessly since the first day she'd met him. Her body responded thoughtlessly to his grasping hand and she leaned against his heated frame, relishing in just being close to him.

She allowed her fingers to tentatively feel their way to the back of his neck, caressing his skin and sending shivers throughout his body. When her fingers finally entangled with the curls on the nape of his neck, a groan escaped deep from within his throat.

The kiss ended without warning.

The guttural moan had shocked Sara and sunk her heart. Her hands immediately found Grissom's chest and pushed him backward, but he didn't budge.

Grissom's stunned face wreaked even more havoc over her feelings. She covered her mouth with her hand and pushed him away with the other and this time he relented. Rapidly, she crossed the room, putting as much distance between them as possible.

"Sara?" he called.

She put her hand up, arm stretched out toward him behind her, not daring to look at his face. So far, she was able to hold back her tears, but when she glanced up toward her bookcase, a pair of dark eyes smiled down upon her.

A gasp escaped through her lips and a hot tear rolled down her cheek. _What have I done?_ She bit her lip in an attempt to control the sobs. All thoughts had irrevocably been placed on the man in the picture as she berated herself for every move she'd allowed in the last few minutes.

Distracted by her voiceless rant, she never heard the approach of the other occupant of the room, until his hand grasped her shoulder. She spun around, the tears now rolling down her cheeks.

"Sara?" His concern was evident in his voice.

"Don't. Just don't." She tried to pass by him, but he caught her arm in his firm grasp and she was tugged backward to face him. "Why?" the question escaped through her clenched teeth.

He frowned, his eyes level under drawn brows. "What's wrong? What did I do?"

"Why did you kiss me?" she asked in a broken whisper.

Baffled at her reaction, he released her absent-mindedly. It never occurred to him that she wouldn't want his kisses. His mind was spinning with bewilderment. He stepped away from her and she retreated further from him.

He'd come over to her place to get some answers and yet, now after revealing so much, he faltered in the silence that engulfed them. Somehow, he'd managed to hurt her once again.

"I never meant to hurt you, Sara. I just," he fished for words, but none were forthcoming.

Sara's voice came out strangled. "We've been so far apart these last two years, what made you decide that now was the time to make a move?"

He stiffened at the question. "I don't want to be too late, Sara. And I feel as though the clock is ticking closer to midnight. Please tell me there's still a chance? That I'm not too late."

The look on his face, and the mixture of despair and hopefulness in his voice were too much for her. Her sobs racked her as she held her body. She couldn't lead him on. She wouldn't be put in the position of playing this game. She'd been the recipient of the hurt, she wouldn't be the instigator. Ever.

She spoke with as reasonable a voice as she could muster, "You are too late, Grissom."

He was momentarily speechless in his surprise. He'd never thought to hear those words from her, he'd feared it yes, but never truly thought he'd hear them. He moved closer, but watched her retreat a step back when he did.

At that moment, his gaze was caught by the dried flowers near her bed. Although they were long dead, they were still cared for tenderly. A thought discomfited him. "There's someone else, isn't there?"

When he heard no reply, he wheeled back to her. Tears were still streaming down her face and she sniffled, but he could see that his question had hit its target. "I thought you two had broken up. He cheated on you, for god sakes."

"Wha –," her voice broke off in mid-sentence. Surely he couldn't think that she was referring to Hank, could he? "Hank?"

Momentarily, he was stunned to actually hear the name spoken. It rankled that she said it so easily. "What could you possibly see in him? He treated you worse than… than anything I could ever do to you."

Her breath caught as she digested his words. He really believed that she was back with Hank. "Oh, no Grissom," she soothed. "I would never take Hank back into my life."  
"Then who?"

She really didn't want this discussion. She'd been able to stave off most questions concerning the man that had sent her the jasmine and she kind of relished the idea of having him all to herself. Telling his name or even discussing him with Grissom would take that all away. "It's not Hank."

When he realized she wasn't going to enlighten him, he said, "We've known each other for almost a decade, Sara. Are you ready to just give that up on a whim?"

Her mood veered sharply to anger. "Known each other? What could you possibly be referring to? You don't know me and I certainly don't know you."

"We've been friends for over eight years. I would say we know each other."

"Friendship takes two, Grissom."

"I've always considered you a friend."

"Well, that's been pretty hard to believe lately."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you haven't taken a moment out of your busy schedule to notice me. Two months ago, Grissom, I was falling apart. Did you think I didn't know you recommended Nick for that promotion? Did you know that Brass had to take me aside to counsel me because he thought that I was trying to solve my problems with alcohol? No, you were there to pick me up when I finally got pulled over for drinking and driving, but you left right after dropping me off. You said we'd talk, but we never did. And even before all of that, where were you when my best friend was convicted of murder or how about when I found out Hank was cheating on me? Or, wait, here's a big one, how about telling your friend that you were in a life-altering crisis when you had to have surgery to regain your hearing?"

The last sent Grissom into shock. He hadn't thought she'd known about the surgery. And the realization that he'd purposely kept it from her, sent waves of guilt coursing through him. Her words were finding a home in his heart.

Holding up her fingers, index and thumb pinched together, she asked, "I was this close to leaving and giving up my career after the explosion in the lab. I know you took time to notice Greg after it happened, but the person you told the team was your friend, the one you trusted, you turned your back on and chastised for reacting at a crime scene badly. Damn it, Grissom. I was totally out of control and you didn't even flinch. And then to top it off, I opened the way for you to take a step in starting something more and you shut me down without a second's hesitation. Now, is that what you call friendship?"

All during her rant, she had moved toward him, backing him against the island in her dinette. Grissom was in shell shock after hearing her heated words. He knew he'd hurt her, but never realized until that moment just how much it had taken out of her. An image appeared before him –an image he had shoved to the back of his mind repeatedly – she'd been withdrawn, haggard and listless before she went on her vacation. When she'd returned it was like a new Sara or the Sara of old who still had the world in the palm of her hand.

"I'm sorry, I never realized what you were working through, Sara. If I had known,"

"Don't, I don't want to hear it. I think it would be best if you leave. I'm upset and angry now and this conversation has hit a line that I don't want to cross-over, feeling the way I do. It won't get us anywhere and we still have to work together."

He remained still. He didn't want to leave. They'd finally started talking, or at least she had, he was still having problems getting the words to slide off his tongue. Her baleful glare was enough to make him nod his head in agreement. Their conversation had become heated with no resolution in sight. He'd have to bide his time and maybe speak with her on neutral territory.

There was just one thing he had to know before he left and when she showed him to the door he turned back to her before crossing over the threshold and took a chance. "Do you love him?"

Sara sighed, "I met him on my way to India, Grissom. I don't know yet."

Strange how she remembered a previous conversation starting the same way, but it ended completely different...

"Do you love him?" he whispered.

Her eyes darted up to meet his. The question was posed at an odd moment. "Who?"

"Grissom, your boss."

Sara blinked. What had she said? When had she said it?

She shuffled underneath the sheets and pulled away from him to get a better look at his face. "Where did you get that idea?"

Aeric shrugged, "Last night, you were whimpering while you slept and you said his name," he explained. "You've mentioned him before and I got the feeling that there had been something more."

This was not a conversation she'd expected having, at any time, let alone while lying in bed. She sat up, pulling the sheets up to cover her bare breasts. She was on her knees and looking at Aeric, now propped against the headboard of the bed. She licked her lips as she thought about her reply. _Did she love Grissom?_ She knew that she highly-esteemed him, looked up to him. She'd longed many times to be able to share their days together doing little else than reading or watching television, but then there were times, lying awake in bed where she could easily envision them together, body and soul, with nothing between them.

Her mother had once told her as a young woman that when she wondered if it was love, she should ask herself if she could envision her life without him in it. And up until recently, she couldn't. When things had become so strained between them and they barely talked or worked together, she began to live her life for herself, not for him. At one point, she had been in love with him, but somewhere along the line it had changed and she was no longer 'in love' with him.

She did, however, love him and always would.

"I guess the answer would be, yes. I do love him," she said, never wavering in her reply.

Aeric seemed to fade a little. His head dipped and he looked a bit lost. Sara reached out a hand to him, touching his bare chest then inched her fingers up to his chin. She lifted it, willing him to meet her gaze. "I said I love him, and I always will. But I'm not 'in love' with him."

His face was bleak as he heard her answer. "But you're not 'in love' with me, either." It was a statement, he already knew the answer.

An inner torment began to tear at her. Lowering her eyes, she contemplated her life that had become a bitter battle. She was certain now that she could go on without Grissom in her life. She also knew that she could do the same without Aeric. It was a crossroads and she'd chosen her own path. Now she would have to decide who would join her in her journey, if anyone. She caught a glimpse of him beneath her lowered lashes, he looked so forlorn, and it tore at her heart. She couldn't lead him on.

"No, Aeric, I'm not." Thinking it and saying it were two different things. When she said the words, she felt a sharp pain in her chest. Knowing that her words had probably left the same mark on Aeric didn't help any either. She'd come to enjoy the last couple of weeks with him and they still had two weeks left. Who knew what could happen during that short time? There were still so many things she didn't know about this man and she was willing to find out. She'd been willing with Grissom also, but, unlike Aeric, he hadn't been one to share. "I've known you for only ten days, Aeric. That's a big question at this time in our relationship."

Aeric pulled away from the headboard hurriedly and moved closer to her, his hand reached out to caress her reassuringly. "I know, I do. It's been so long since I've been in a relationship that I sometimes think that it needs to be moving at full speed. But really, the last thing I want is for time to go any faster. Before you know it, it's flown by and you wish you could go back," a lump formed in his throat as he finished, "and do it all over again."

Any novice at interrogating would have easily caught the hitch in his voice as a signal, so Sara had no trouble understanding that there was a deeper meaning to his words, something that grieved him intensely. Her hand grasped his that was still caressing her cheek and pulled it away, just far enough so that she could plant a kiss in the middle of his palm.

"What is it, Aeric? What has caused you to regret wasting time?" she coaxed soothingly.

Her soft voice urged him on, gave him the strength necessary to speak of his heartache. If nothing ever came out of this relationship other than friendship, he knew he'd found something priceless. He pulled her close to him and down to lay back on the pillows, cradling her against his side. "My work was all-consuming. It took up all of my energies and I wasted time because of it. I fell in love with my high school sweetheart. She supported me when I went to school and throughout my climb to be on top."

Sara lifted her head, squaring her eyes as she gazed at him. "Umm, you're a photographer –"

"I am now. I wasn't before." With a deep sigh, he continued, "I went to medical school. I was a surgeon."

Sara stared disbelieving eyes at him. "A surgeon?" He hadn't said he was going to be a surgeon, he said he 'had been' a surgeon. Her eyes traveled over his hair, his face and then the length of him. It was then that she noticed the fine wrinkles around his eyes. "How old are you?" she asked frankly.

He chuckled, low and deep. "I'm forty-five."

She chuckled at the irony. It would seem she always chooses the older ones. With a disbelieving shake of her head, she directed him to continue.

"Well, I wasn't top in my field, but I was good and I was aspiring high for my achievements. I worked hard, long hours. When I had time off, we spent it together. But the majority of time, when I made it home, Stephanie would already be asleep. I loved her, always had, ever since I can remember. I never strayed from her with another woman. It never even occurred to me." His voice broke and his breath became ragged. "But I did stray from her, my work ended up taking all of my time. I put it first and never even knew,"

Sara looked up and saw the anguish that his eyes betrayed. They were squeezed shut, in pain. A tear had escaped and was now slowly flowing down his cheek.

When Sara reached up to caress his cheek, he opened his eyes and stared into hers, called back to the present.

Clearing his throat, he continued, "No one was to blame; it was just a freak accident. She was driving up to our cabin near Mt.Shasta, alone. I was supposed to be with her, we were supposed to be going together, but I got called in to work. She died at the scene. I never got to say good-bye. It wasn't until later that I found out she was seven weeks pregnant."

The anguish tore at her, but she couldn't find the words to express how deeply sorry she was for him. So she hugged him tighter and then said, "I'm so sorry, Aeric."

He hugged her back, taking the comfort so willingly bestowed to him. It had been a long time since he'd talked about Stephanie.

"Is that why you became a photographer?"

Gathering himself, he answered, "I'd always had an interest in photography. Even being the high school newsletter's photographer, but, when it happened, I fell apart, my work no longer mattered. Within two months afterwards, I gave up everything. I left the house as it was and moved out – back in with my parents. They were the only ones who never attempted to get me to 'move on'. I lost touch with almost all of my friends, who had within only six months after her funeral, tried to set me up with a 'friend' or in one instance even tried taking me to a singles' bar."

While he spoke, Sara watched the emotions play over his face. The contrast from devastation and bitterness didn't surprise her. People, she knew, could be cruel.

"So, I packed up my stuff, moved back in with my parents. Actually, it was in their guest house. It took awhile, but eventually I found something to occupy my time. Photography was something I could do alone. I could either allow my mind to wander while going through the motions or as I got progressively more involved with it, I could concentrate on it enough so that I didn't remember as often."

"The way you spoke of your parents, it sounds like they were supportive of you."

"They were, are very supportive of me and anything I choose to do. I'm an only child. I was doted on, but I can honestly say I wasn't spoiled. My father was strict and my mother supported him."

Sara snuggled closer to him, wrapping her arm around his waist and laying her head against his shoulder. "What's that saying? 'Time heals all wounds.'"

Aeric's brow furrowed as he looked down at her.

She tilted her head up and lifted her eyes to meet his. "I've always hated that saying," she said. "The wounds might cover over, but the hurt is always there."

He knew she was speaking from her own experiences. What he didn't know was if her painful experiences included the name, Grissom.


	9. Chapter 9

Boisterous laughter and loud strains of music wafted over the evening air, tickling her ears while twinkling lights, shining like miniature stars, winked at her from afar. Sara, her elegant attire in direct contrast to her solemnity, sat alone, boredom having overcome her even before she'd arrived and she now wished heartily that she could've been left at home. Catherine and Warrick had offered to pick her up for the fund-raiser, and although she'd tried to gently decline their offer, they'd insisted.

So now, here she sat, alone and miserable, tapping her foot idly against the leg of the table while she watched her work mates and other couples dancing, laughing and having a merry time. It should've been her out there... dancing and laughing, having the time of her life. And although she had danced once with Nick and even once with Warrick, she couldn't quite get into the spirit of the festivities. After her dance with Warrick, she made some lame excuse and wandered off, first to the bar to get a glass of the bubbly red champagne that she'd come to enjoy and finding an empty table, she took a seat and had been there ever since. The quiet solitude fit her mood, and so there she sat, nursing her drink and wishing she'd been able to meet up with Aeric the weekend before. But instead, the person she'd thought would be escorting her wasn't there. And that could only be her fault.

A week earlier, she was to have met Aeric in Pahrump, but was unable to. She'd arrived the following night only to find that he wasn't there. Her fears had become reality.

And within that time, Grissom, surmising that something had shifted in her relationship with this new man, had tried to regain her trust by working with her closely on the few cases they'd shared in the last several days. And had he'd made this attempt months ago, she would've accepted his attentions with wide-open arms. It just wasn't in her heart anymore.

Bubbling with effervescence, she picked up her glass and sipped it. If nothing else, no one would say anything to her about the drink. Only Grissom had ever said anything and she had to believe deep down that no matter how much he'd hurt her in the past, he'd never go over that line. Grissom detested gossip as much she did. He'd never said as much, but his character told it all. No... That was Catherine's arena.

The thought of Catherine sparked her interest in where the strawberry blonde had taken off to, having left their table during Warrick and Sara's dance. The sudden interest in the dayshift supervisor's whereabouts had her searching the crowd.

In another part of the festivities...

Catherine sauntered up to the bar, tossed her purse to the counter and smiled flirtatiously with the bartender. She flipped her hair behind her shoulder and leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand.

"What can I get you?" the bartender asked.

With a wink, she drawled, "A tall, cool Long Island Ice Tea."

The bartender smiled appreciatively at the view she was giving him and turned to make the drink. While he was busy, Catherine swiveled around in her chair to take in the people closest to her. There was a couple on her right that she vaguely recognized, probably someone from accounting she surmised. And on her left, not quite up to the bar, stood an olive skinned, well-dressed handsome man, his hair cropped close on the sides, the crown slightly longer and a recently trimmed beard, part goatee and part three-day stubble.

She watched him searching the room, ostensibly looking for someone. He turned to her and she was caught staring.

He smiled kindly.

"Looking for someone?" she asked.

He was a little startled to be addressed, but recovered quickly, stepping up next to her at the bar. "I am. But I'm not sure she's even here."

"You don't know if your date is here?"

Chuckling, he explained, "This isn't her type of thing."

"Are you meeting her here?"

"No. She doesn't even know I'm in town."

"Oh. Well, this is a fundraiser for the Police Department and the Crime Lab. Does she work for one of them?"

"She's an investigator… forensics."

Catherine sat back against the cushioned rail of the bar, sizing him up. "Really. What's her name?"

"Sara Sidle."

It didn't take long for the rest of the team to notice that Sara hadn't returned and the team quickly chose Warrick to retrieve the wayward woman. When he'd spied her down the long tables and outside of the arranged seating area, he couldn't help but feel her loneliness. And he knew that it wasn't because of them, but rather had something to do with the person who had sent her those flowers weeks ago. He didn't know what happened, but he thought the man was a fool for not being here, whether he was supposed to be or not.

He approached her quietly, not disturbing her solitude until he took the seat next to her. Even when he pulled the chair away from the table, it did not stir her from her deep daydream, but his sudden touch on her shoulder did.

She blinked once, twice, and then gazed at him.

"What're you doing sitting here by yourself?" he asked.

Sara shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. "I don't know. It's quieter here."

Warrick glanced around, noting the lack of people in the area. Sara was a loner, they all knew that, but they also knew that she didn't really want to be. It just seemed to be her way of dealing with things. Nick and he had an agreement that entailed trying to keep tabs on her and to help her get out once in a while. There was only so much they could do, but they'd succeeded for a short time. It hadn't lasted long and before they realized she'd spiraled down into the shadows of despair. After her vacation though, she'd rebounded, and seemed almost euphoric.

Even though she was dressed to the nines, he could see the return of the withdrawn Sara, the dark eyes, the slumped shoulders. It was time to draw her back into the living. "We've been looking for you and would really like for you to join us, Sara. Being on different teams doesn't mean we can't continue to be friends."

His thoughtful words brought a smile to her eyes, not a dazzling one, but one of reassurance. "Please don't think I don't want to spend time with you guys. I just... it was quiet." She sighed, forcing herself to stand and reach out for Warrick's hand.

He grasped it and stood as she said, "Come on. We'll go back there and make sure that Greg isn't scaring off his date with his imitation of Marilyn Manson."

Within minutes of retaking her seat with the group, Brass swooped in and showed her the way to the dance floor. The jazzy number had Brass swinging her to and fro over the floor and she came back to the table out of breath. Brass went to retrieve a waitress to get a couple of drinks while Sara took a different seat, settling between Greg, his date Charisse and Nick along with his date, Samantha. She found herself pulled into the conversation rapidly and laughed quietly, hand over her mouth as Greg tried to coax a kiss from Charisse. Warrick, who sat across from them, watched in amusement as Charisse blushed when Greg succeeded, as if she'd minded his attempts.

Sara skirted a glance toward the far end of the table to catch a glimpse of a solemn Grissom staring off into space, not involved with anything happening at the table.

She knew he was still reeling from her rejection. It hurt, that Sara knew all too well; if she could've done anything differently she would have. But he never made a move until he knew she was in the midst of being swept off her feet by another man. She deserved better. And now, even though she'd been delusional in her whirlwind romance with Aeric, she couldn't go back to the unsatisfying games with Grissom. She didn't want to.

Things had changed for her, and not just in the romantic sense. Her life had changed. She'd seen and done things that she never would've before her indiscretion with the DUI. Returning to a life, pining after Grissom, wasn't a choice for her any longer. Grissom wasn't a choice.

While she was ruminating, she noticed Warrick's sudden lack of interest in Greg's clowning around. Suddenly, Catherine was standing behind her. She could tell that Warrick's gaze flicked from Catherine to something behind her and she tried to ascertain what it was but was blocked from viewing anything. Then, Catherine bent down to speak into her ear, insuring she'd be heard. "I found someone," she drawled excitedly.

Sara didn't understand what that meant for her, but Catherine seemed pretty pleased by her revelation. Tilting her head back, she saw a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. Her brow furrowed into a frown, clearly not understanding what Catherine was up to.

Catherine suddenly stepped to the side and Sara found herself trailing her eyes up the dark, well-cut suit to the broad shoulders of a man and soon found herself staring into the dark brown eyes that seemed brighter than she'd ever seen them before.

Her breath hitched.

Catherine heard it and pinched Sara's shoulder, showing her support. She had to backpedal quickly as Sara fought to stand, knocking the table, nearly causing her drink and those of the others to topple. Catherine helped her keep her balance and stepped out of her way when Sara found her equilibrium and finally came face to face with Aeric.

The rest of her team, as well as Grissom, watched with varying degrees of curiosity and confusion. Sara's animated excitement was completely uncharacteristic of the person they'd come to know.

She now stood little more than a foot away from him, looking over his hair, to his face, and then down the length of his body, returning back to his concerned face.

Sara had yet to say anything, or to even smile. Leaving Aeric wondering how she felt about him being there. He shifted his feet, feeling a tad uncomfortable with so many eyes on him, the unknown entity. Sara had described her co-workers so well to him, that he had no problem putting names with the faces, except for the man at the far end. And when he met the eyes of the gentleman, they turned from inquisitive to something much darker… something fiercer.

Grissom.

"I'm sorry."

The regretful words filled his ears and he turned to see that it was indeed Sara that had spoken them. Now he was confused. What was she to be sorry about? He was the one who'd messed up and not shown up for their rendezvous, not her. Reaching forward to grasp her hand, he tugged her closer, whispering, "No, I'm sorry. I really messed up."

Wetness formed beneath her chocolate brown eyes, and he reached up to caress the tear that was about to fall.

Sara, stuttering, tried to explain, "I, I wasn't… I mean,"

"Shh…" He comforted. Looking at the interested and concerned faces staring at him, he whispered, "Walk with me." He tentatively stepped away, still clutching her hand.

She followed him wordlessly down the long line of tables, the hair on the back of her neck tingling from knowledge that every step they took away from the group was being watched carefully. He led her outside of the partitioned area designated for the dancing and past the table she had previously been sitting at, alone.

They reached a large water fountain, secluded from the rest of the gatherers and now stood facing each other. Underwater lights shining up through the falling streams illuminated the water and it set a beautifully romantic setting just behind them, but neither of them had yet to take notice of it.

Aeric, reeling from her words, took the silent moment between them to drink in the sight of her. Her hair framed her face in wavy curls, the natural way that he liked and her dress was a form fitting filmy skirt with a halter bodice, the color of bronze setting off her tanned skinned to perfection. But, he saw the unshed tears in her bright eyes and the sight recalled him to the words she'd spoken just moments before and it was then that he saw the timidity hiding behind the liquid pools and was dumbstruck at how sorrowful she looked. The tears cut him deeply to the bone. He knew that his absence from their planned weekend had hurt her, he couldn't imagine how he would've felt if it had been the other way around.

"Sara," he began, pulling her just close enough so that he could read her expressions clearly. "I don't know what you think you need to feel sorry for, but before I ask, I have to apologize for not showing up last weekend. I don't want to make excuses, but I hope you'll let me explain."

Sara's glittering eyes looked up to his with confusion riddled within. Her voice had taken wing earlier as he'd led her to this spot, but now she asked on a gasp, "You weren't there?"

Aeric blinked. With a tilt of his head he considered her question. Not sure if he understood, he in turn asked, "Weren't you?"

Shaking her head no and sniffling once, she whispered, "No." She turned away and sat on the bench in front of the water fountain. Glancing his way, she continued, "I… Grissom wouldn't let me have the first night off. I didn't know how to get a hold of you to let you know. When I showed up the next day, you weren't there."

Easing into the space beside her on the bench, he grasped her hand and attempted to reassure her that it wasn't her fault. "I wasn't there either, Sara. I got myself into a mess that I couldn't get out of and wasn't able to get back here in time."

Their eyes met and held through the silence that settled between them. "I never checked to see if you'd even arrived the night before. I just assumed that you…"

"Stood you up?" he asked.

She nodded.

He pulled her into his embrace, his warm hand smoothing the bare skin showing from her backless dress. "Never."

"I don't trust you, Aeric," she stated simply, instantly feeling him stiffen against her. She hadn't meant to hurt him, just saying what she knew she felt. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to say it like that."

Gently easing her away from him so that he could see her face, he responded kindly, "I know you don't trust easily, Sara. If I'd had any way to contact you to let you know, I would have... I promise. There wasn't a day that went by that I didn't think of you and what it would do to you, my not showing up." His voice deepened as he spoke, distress punctuating each of his words.

"What happened? You know why I didn't, but why couldn't you make it?"

Pulling her with him, Aeric settled back against the back of the bench. "I was finally able to capture those pictures I wanted of the tigers there in the Sundarbans, but shortly after, I was asked by a friend to take a job that he wasn't going to be able to fulfill. As you know, I only work with nature, the animals, wildlife of all sorts, but he talked me into doing this. I told him no at first –"

"Aeric, what was the job?" Sara asked wanting him to cut to the chase.

Sighing, he spurted out, "Sudan and the refugees. He works for Time, and they asked him to go in and get the photos. I didn't want to, I'd seen enough of the carnage as a doctor to last me a lifetime. He talked me into it though, and I went."

Sara pulled away abruptly, fear riddling her face. "Were you in danger?"

He nodded. "Our convoy was overtaken on our way to the camp. I'm not afraid to say that I was scared as hell. A couple of us were able to head to the hills and hide, but the soldiers that were escorting us were held up in gunfire for quite some time. I don't even know how many made it."

"Were you hurt?"

"No."

"Aeric, if this is some kind of exaggerated, full of shit story –"

As she was in the middle of her tirade, he reached into his jackets inside pocket and pulled out several photos, handing them to her.

Sara gathered them in her trembling hand, now regretting her words. She saw several men and two women huddled together under some brush and rocks – fear clearly evident in their expressions. Flipping through the photos, she came to the ones of the Sudanese refugees and bit her bottom lip in grief for these poor people who'd had to uproot their lives hurriedly, leaving everything they knew behind.

"I'm sorry," she stated, shaking her head in remorse. "I did just what Grissom has always told me not to do. I jumped to conclusions."

"Well, it's not like I've given you any reason not to."

"Oh! No, no Aeric. It's me, not you. I've spent so much time on impossible dreams. And now, when I have something attainable in my grasp, it's like my fingers went numb and I'm fumbling for what is within my reach, not sure of what I'm doing."

He grasped her hands tightly within his, holding them firmly as if to emphasize his words as he said, "You don't need to fumble, Sara. I've got you… and I'm not letting go."

His words, smooth and endearing, hit the spot and she smiled brightly at him, her spirits lifted to new heights. He pulled her tightly against him and they sat quietly together, while they listened to the faint strains of the distant music.

"Sara?" he asked.

"Mm..."

"Would you care to dance?"

"I'd love to."


	10. Chapter 10

The night was advancing slowly in Grissom's estimation. While he feigned interest in the conversations around him, having been pointedly included by one or more of his team members, he searched through the expanding crowd on and near the dance floor for a glimpse of Sara who'd been whisked away from their table.

His intentions earlier were to make an appearance and quickly depart thereafter. But then, Sara had made an appearance and he found he couldn't leave. She looked enchanting with her hair swept up and off her shoulders, enhancing the long line of her slender neck and the sensuous cut of her bronze-colored halter-style dress. Too many times, when she'd worn her hair up in a ponytail because of the tireless heat in the desert sun, he'd caught himself drifting off in wonderful thoughts of kissing her neck and inching lower as she gasped for air from his attentions.

Shaking himself out of going there again in such a public arena, he glanced around to those closest to him to see if he'd missed anything. Thankfully, he hadn't. His gaze lingered now in the direction that Sara had been led off to, hoping to see her return. He could kick himself for not asking her to dance earlier, but as was his norm, he couldn't find the words. And by the time she returned, all courage had fled him.

Longing to just slink away into the darkness to the safety of his lonely abode, he'd attempted to leave, but when he rose from his chair, Catherine had returned and this time with a tall, dark man in tow. Instead of leaving, his curiosity got the better of him and he remained stuck in his seat watching and listening as the unrehearsed display began. Soon, the revelation that this man was not _with_ Catherine, but was actually there for Sara, created a deep chasm within his heart. For he concluded, this man was – _him_.

Barely anything had been said, and suddenly he'd whisked Sara. Communication – it wasn't his forte, and maybe that's why Sara had given up on him. He knew how it had to have appeared to her, that he didn't want her to know him, that he didn't trust her. But that wasn't it. He did trust her. He'd just never had anyone to confide in before that he could approach. With her as his subordinate, the chance was taken from him. Maybe if he'd at least tried it with her, he wouldn't be stuck in this god-awful situation.

A waitress came over at that moment, disturbing his disquieted thoughts to ask him if he wanted a drink. He nodded and ordered another. When she left, he took another glance out to the dance floor and realized he'd missed something. His team was no longer talking; they were attentively watching the dance floor.

Aeric had swung Sara onto the dance floor, her skirt swirling around her legs, her head tossed back and her laughter singing to them over the music. Her expression was one of pure joy, ecstatic even. Her smile, which once was reserved only for him, was now beaming on her dance partner. It was painful to watch. He wanted to take the empty glass in his hand and throw it against the partition wall. It probably wouldn't break though, and he knew it wouldn't be enough.

It was hard not to notice that they danced well together, as if they'd done so as partners for years. This other man was fluid in his steps and she was graceful. Oh, how he wished that he'd step on her toes. Shaking his head, he realized that, no, he didn't wish that. He'd caused her enough pain.

At the end of the song, he dipped her, leaning down to kiss her before righting her once again. Grissom looked away, at anything other than them, finding Catherine staring in his direction. Great! Just what he needed, he was sure she'd say something, but instead her eyes grew large, as if to get his attention and she nodded emphatically toward the dancers. Then she gestured with her hand for him to get out on the dance floor. At first he thought she was telling him to watch what was going on, until she started to get up. She wanted him to join her on the dance floor.

He jumped out of his seat and followed closely behind Catherine as she led him out on to the dance floor, taking a second to wave the waitress on with the drink. Catherine twisted him around in front of her, the strains of the violins indicating a slow dance was about to begin.

After making one turn around the floor, Catherine mumbled through her teeth, "Cut in," all the while, never breaking her smile. Astonished at her audacious suggestion, he stared at her until she took the liberty of swinging him aside, right next to Aeric and Sara.

Oh shit!

They stopped, stared at him for a moment, the intrusion unwelcome in Sara's eyes. Grissom licked his lips nervously, but somehow found the courage to ask, "May I cut in?" and then watched Aeric look from Sara to him only to take a step back, graciously, to allow Sara to make the decision.

Sara's hesitancy would have normally sent him running for the hills, or lab in his case, but he held his ground. The wait was short-lived. Sara placed her hand on Aeric's arm, silently thanking him, for what, Grissom wasn't sure, but the next thing he knew Catherine had stepped in and was now dancing with Aeric. Grissom held his hand out to Sara and she stepped forward to take it letting him lead her into a slow dance. It was several seconds into their first turn around the floor when Grissom finally broke the silence after he saw the questioning look in her eyes. "I may never get the chance again."

"Grissom –"

"I'm at a loss here, Sara." His voice broke and he grimaced at his lack of control. Grissom didn't beg, for anything or anyone, but damn, she took his breath away whenever he gazed longer than a second into her eyes.

Sara wasn't born yesterday, and she knew what he'd meant. What she didn't know was how she felt about it. Her eyes darted away from his gaze and met Aeric's across the dance floor, setting her confusion firmly into place. Aeric had shown her a different life and she had enjoyed it immensely. Now, here was Grissom, offering to fulfill her dreams. Wasn't he?

As Grissom swung her into another turn, she watched the changing shades of emotions flickering across his face. They went from fright to determination in the blink of an eye. And in the midst of that blink, she found herself outside the boundary wall set up for the fundraiser and out of view from the partiers, and Aeric.

"Grissom?"

"We need to talk," he sighed heavily, "Actually, no, I need to talk. Can we..." his voice trailed off, mesmerized at the site of Sara so near. Taking a deep breath, he took in the scent of her, sure that he smelled lavender and vanilla mixed with the natural scent of her. He recognized it, how could he not, he'd been familiar with it for the last four years – going so far as to smell her in his dreams. Her eyes, large and curious, enticed him. Uncontrollably he pulled her closer, feeling the length of her pressed against him. She was irresistible. How had he kept her at a distance for so many years? His hand snuck up between them, tenderly caressing the smooth curve of her slender throat just as he'd dreamed of doing so many times before on many a lonely night. She gasped at his touch and he smiled with joy, joy that he could have an effect on her. Whispering close to her ear, "We need to talk, privately."

Regretfully, he tore his eyes from her and looked toward the dancers. Aeric, along with Catherine still, were searching for them. After not finding them, he was sure they would head in this direction. He needed just a few more moments with her, he was sure that's all it would take. Things between them couldn't just be buried and forgotten, he knew her well enough to know, especially after that kiss they shared, that she wasn't yet giving up on him. "Sara?"

"Griss, I agree. But now is not the time. Let me..." Her eyes darted past him and grew larger.

He knew then that their time was up, for now. But not before the knife that had cut into his heart was twisted hard and deep.

"Grissom, we do need to talk. And I think the sooner the better, however..." biting her lower lip she contemplated her next words carefully. "Aeric doesn't deserve to be shoved aside just because you've found your footing. I... want... to be with Aeric tonight."

His breath hitched and refused to release. The pain in his chest was near unbearable and he couldn't but wonder if he was having a heart attack. Had he heard her correctly? She wanted to be with Aeric, tonight. She wanted to be _with_... brought to a painful understanding, he stepped away from her. Aeric and Catherine reached them at that moment and with the briefest of hesitance, Sara took Aeric by the arm and quickly drew him out of the garden and out of Grissom's sight.

Catherine stood next to him, staring from him to Sara and then back to him again. "What are you doing? No, wait. Don't answer that. Why aren't you going after her?"

Without a glance in her direction, Grissom walked away.

* * *

AERIC and Sara drove until the lights of Las Vegas diminished and became nothing more than a halo of light in the distance. The somber timber in the air between them was disquieting to both. Aeric knew the deep feelings that existed between Sara and her supervisor Grissom. There was love on both sides, unconsummated love though it was. He stole a glance in her direction, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the darkened passenger window. This was new for him, he wasn't sure what he should say or do, what he was allowed to say or do. If he took her hand would she pull it away? And for a moment, he was afraid to try – until he saw her eyes meet his through the window. 

She turned and gave him a diminutive smile. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm a little out of it now."

Without thought, Aeric grasped her hand, tenderly stroking the tops of her knuckles. "It's not like you knew I was coming tonight. Did you have other plans afterward?"

She shook her head emphatically, her words spoken with the same intensity, "No, I hadn't even planned on attending, but Warrick and Catherine made me their private mission, dragging me along."

"So, what do you want to do? Do you want me to take you home or go somewhere else?"

She did want to go home, just to lie there and not have to think about anything or anyone. But just the idea that Grissom might stop by was more than enough to make up her mind for her. "Can we just take a few minutes out here and just not–"

"Talk?"

"Yeah. I'm not really in the mood. I f you know what I mean?"

"I think I do."

They remained in silence even through the turn he made onto a county road. The drive continued for several miles until he suddenly pulled over and turned off the ignition. He lifted his hand to the door handle, hesitating to see if she wanted to get out. When Sara did the same, they both exited the vehicle. Meeting in the middle, he encircled her in his waiting arms and held her as they gazed at the starlit sky. The warmth from the engine seeped into their bones, keeping them from freezing in the cold desert air.

An hour later, after they had broken their silence and discussed his plans for the near future, he asked her if she wanted to go home or if she would like to share the night at his hotel.

Still, the idea of going home to an empty apartment did little to induce her. She shook her head, clearing the thoughts and made her decision. "Let's go to your hotel."

It was her resolve on their drive back into town that the silence wouldn't continue, so she told him of the Callahans and the pictures they'd brought with them to give to her. Then she remembered the Jasmine blooms that he thoughtfully had delivered on her first night back. She thanked him, telling him how much that had meant to her. She'd already done so in previous communiqués, but this time it was more personal.

It was only coincidence that when they arrived at The Bellagio, a crowd was gathered at one end of the parking lot, blue and white lights flashing against the dark of the night. Sara immediately searched for the shock of salt and pepper hair belonging to her boss, though not really expecting to see him. To her surprise, he was there.

Trying desperately to avoid being seen, her steps quickened toward the door and Aeric had a hard time keeping up.

As she looked back over her shoulder, a pair of steely blue eyes caught hers through the distance, bringing her to a standstill.

But at that moment, Aeric caught up with her and drew her inside without so much as a look in the other direction, not realizing what she had seen. Quietly, she let him lead her to the elevator, then to his room.

Sara had seen nice hotel rooms in her time, but this was truly elegant. And for a moment, the muted but shimmering colors distracted her from her dreary thoughts. The bedspread was an off white and as she ran her fingers along the edge of the mattress the softness was keen on her fingers. The fireplace was lit and so was the candles spread out through the room.

It was an odd mixture of feelings that swept over her at the realization that Aeric had assumed she'd return with him. At first it was a giddy feeling, one she had dreamt of many times in regards to Grissom and how she'd wished he'd been just as decisive. Then there was the other feeling, the one that called out to her independent spirit. It annoyed her, slightly, that he had assumed she'd stay with him. What was it they said about assuming? Oh yeah, assuming makes an Ass out of U and Me.

"Sara? Is everything all right?" Aeric asked.

With a visible shake of her head, she pulled herself out of her ruminations and walked quickly to the balcony and threw the curtains back with a loud whooshing sound then opened the doors.

Now, as she stood against the railing, hearing Aeric approach quietly behind her, she cursed herself for allowing this added frustration into her life. This evening could've been beautifully romantic, that is until Grissom stepped in, clouding her mind. On the other hand, what if Aeric hadn't shown up, would Grissom have taken the chance? With Aeric, she had no doubt of the romance, the security and last but definitely not least – the sensuality.

Knowing that Aeric was quietly confused as well, she turned to look deep into his eyes and made a decision.


	11. Chapter 11

Thrumming her fingers against the steering wheel to the unheard tune in her head, Sara drove away from the glittery neon-lights and honking horns of motorists seeking a good-time. She was in no hurry, requiring thinking time, time that was easily acquired by driving. It was one of her favorite getaways, usually with the windows down, hair blowing in the rushing wind and the radio blaring out some innocuous tune. But tonight, her mind thoroughly clouded, she hadn't spared an extra thought to turning on the radio.

She cringed as she looked back on how she'd left Aeric in the hotel room. The look she received after telling him she couldn't stay created an ache in her heart. She could see the way she felt reflected in his eyes. But she couldn't let herself stay the night while these feelings were rampaging through her. It wasn't fair to him and it quite frankly wasn't fair to her. So, when Aeric opened his mouth to disagree, Sara had pressed her fingertips to his lips, stilling anything he may have wanted to say and inched closer to the point that both of their bodies were barely touching. The warmth shared between them mingled with the cool desert air sweeping over the balcony, sending a shiver to course through her. All she wanted was to snuggle close to his warmth and let him hold her throughout the night. It was a frightening feeling really, to have it this close and realize that you can't allow it. Not yet, at least.

"I need to think some things over. I'll come by tomorrow," she whispered.

"Sara..."

She shook her head and walked away. Leaving a stunned Aeric slumped against the railing of the balcony. It tore at her heart. And now, as she replayed that scene over and over again in her mind she became angry. If Grissom had left them alone earlier, they would now be snuggled together under the covers, the sweat cooling in the aftermath of their lovemaking.

The problem was she could understand what Grissom was doing. Giving a man an ultimatum and then watching it become a reality would garner a reaction from anyone, and depending on the man and his feelings, that reaction could be any number of things. How could he not react? I pushed him into it, she thought.

Now, she had to wonder what Aeric's reaction was going to be. Tonight, she'd taken another step further on her road to self-discovery. No, self-recovery was more like it. Over the years, she'd grown into a woman she no longer knew or could even understand. Following a man and staying at his heels like a lost puppy that had found a new friend. She cringed literally at the sight her mind conjured up. What had she become in all these years?

Bright lights further up the road caught her eye. Turning on her turn signal as she approached, she pulled into the gas station, parking on the side of the building where it was slightly secluded but still well lit. She didn't get out but remained in her car, still thinking about her two men.

And that was another thing. Her world was now revolving around not only one man, but two.

It was like her arms were stretched out from her sides, a rope tethered to each wrist and she was being pulled apart in the middle without any resistance on her part. What if she did? Resist that is. What if she pulled them in – as she moved forward, rather than one side or the other?

Something in the image her mind conjured up sparked an ember within her, an ember full of fierce determination. She remembered time, long ago, when she burned with intensity of will, and of living. Her trip to India and her encounter with Aeric had reignited the flame only for it to nearly be extinguished when she'd returned home to Las Vegas.

She could leave, but that wouldn't prove anything. Sara Sidle didn't run from her fears; she faced them head on, denying them power over her. Five years she'd spent in this city, five long years. It was time to put them behind her.

* * *

As the red gold sun rose over the desert surrounding Las Vegas, Aeric slept, though fitfully. Rolling onto his back, he covered his eyes with his forearm, effectively blocking out the now blaring morning sunlight from the balcony doors. He'd thoughtlessly left the drapes open earlier that morning when Sara had left with no explanation.

God how he'd missed her. Rubbing the sleep and newly formed moisture from his eyes, he threw the covers back and got out of bed, heading straight for the bathroom. Turning on the water in the sink, he leaned on the counter staring unseeing into the mirror.

He'd thought of nothing else but seeing and touching and kissing her since returning to the states. It never occurred to him that not calling her or writing to her before showing up would create such frustration, for him and for her. He could see the confusion in her eyes, but what he also saw, which shocked him, was the sorrow that darkened those beautiful brown eyes. He couldn't argue after that. He let her walk out, wishing with every step she made that she'd stop and stay with him.

The frustration of not having her by his side throughout the night hit him like a wave and pulled him into the now where the steam from the still running water rose and misted the mirror, obscuring his reflection. Shrugging heavily in an attempt to shake off the unwanted feeling, he bent over the sink, cupped the water and splashed it on his face and neck. The heat reawakened his senses, bringing him back to the land of the living. He repeated his actions a second and third time before reaching for a towel. It was then that he heard the faint knocking. Hoping it was Sara, terrified at the same time that it wasn't, he rushed to the door, throwing it open to see his hopes renewed.

She stood before him, unsmiling and yet not solemn. It reminded him of when he'd first glimpsed her on the plane to India and then again last night when he'd been shown to her table. His joy at seeing her must've been quite evident, for she now wore a brilliant smile.

"Hi. May I come in?" she asked.

"Please," he said with a flourish of his arm into the room, indicating her welcome.

Her smile lingered as she ducked past him and walked further into the room, taking in the rumpled sheets and the steam billowing out from the bathroom. "Were you taking a shower?"

Aeric looked at her bewildered, and then followed her glance toward the bathroom. "Oh, no, just the sink faucet. Just a second, I'll be right back."

As he walked away she turned to the balcony, approaching it in almost the exact same steps as the night before. As she looked out over the city, the sun shining on her face, she was reminded of waking up her first morning in Kolkatta and letting the sun warm her skin. Her eyes closed, letting the sights and smells take over her. She breathed in the scent of the air, but opened her eyes, not so much in surprise, but sobering revelation. India was long gone and so was the fantasy. The difference was enough to make her eyes water in loss of so much. A lone tear escaped the well of liquid in her eye.

The heat from the rising sun was not all that warmed her skin. Aeric stood behind her, close enough for her to feel him and to know that if she turned, she'd be in his arms instantly.

Instead, Aeric's arms gathered her close, cocooning her from her deep thoughts. He gently asked, "Are you going to tell me what's going on?" around

She shook her head, her hair caressing his face like a fan of feathers. Turning in his arms to face him, she let him pull closer, her arms sneaking about his waist, "I don't want to talk. I don't want to think. It only gets me into trouble when it's personal. I'm too tired to think anyway."

"You didn't go home?"

She shook her head, letting it fall to his chest as she snuggled closer and closed her eyes.

"I thought..."

Sara lifted her head, mere inches from his beautifully tanned face. "You thought what?"

He shrugged and ducked his head, somewhat embarrassed to have voiced his thoughts. "I thought that perhaps you wanted... other company."

At the mere mention of 'the other person', her heart skipped a beat and filled with dread. The mixture didn't sit well with her. "Aeric, I drove. Okay. I had to think. I'm being pushed and pulled so that I don't know where my footing is anymore." She pulled from his arms and stalked away, her hand on her head, cradling it as if she needed to support the heavy weight. Near the bed, she retrieved her purse from the floor then swung back around. "Maybe I should just go home and sleep."

But she didn't want to. And her hesitation was all the encouragement Aeric needed. Approaching her like he would one of the wild animals he photographed, he tenderly gripped her arms, asking for her full attention. "I'm sorry. Stay, please. I didn't sleep well as it is. I think we can manage to make it dark enough to sleep."

Wanting to stay, but ambiguous yet as to her feelings in regard to the two men, she remained frozen in her spot, staring into his dark brown eyes and his dazzling smile, while he caressed her arms soothingly. It was enough to make up her mind. "Ok."

Aeric kept to his word and within minutes they were both sound asleep. While she slept for several hours, Aeric awoke after only a couple. Watching her as she slept had been one of his favorite pastimes when they were in India. It still was. He couldn't help it. She slept on her stomach, her arm cradling the pillow beneath her face – relaxed and serene, all signs of stress removed, giving her a carefree appearance. Her hair spilled softly across her shoulders and his fingers twitched with wanting to caress.

When his eyes started drooping again, he lay next to her, hand beneath his face, continuing to watch her until finally he succumbed to the pull of slumber.

It was a twist later when he woke to find her leaning on her elbow, her hand temptingly stroking his chest and her smile rewarding him for waking. His hand caught hers, stilling it and tugged her down upon his chest. He didn't miss the hiss that she emitted or the sudden straightening of her back. "You alright?"

"Uh, not sure, I think I have a knot in my lower back –probably from all that driving."

"Well, let me take a look at that for you," he offered, an unmistakable twinkle in his eyes.

After helping to settle her on the mattress, back on her stomach, he began a tender exploration of her tense muscles without restriction because of her backless dress. "You know this might take a little work. I brought a present for you and was planning on giving it to you later this evening, but it might be put to good use right now."

"Let me guess. Oil?"

"Good guess." He chuckled and rolled to the side of the bed and grabbed a bag that was on the near chair. Minutes later he set to work releasing the knots in her muscles.

* * *

A while later, her stomach twitched as warm, caressing fingers massaged the scented oil that fell from the intricately inlaid bottle onto her skin. They ignited a flame that spread through her body, inching their way lower still until smoothing the dark thatch of hair at her juncture. With each stroke of his fingers he brought her that much closer to the edge. He'd managed to do this numerous times during the last hour and each time he'd surprised her by not letting her crossover that chasm.

"Aeric," she whimpered, her fingers desperately clutching the damp sheets beneath her.

"Shh," he shushed. "Just relax. Close your eyes."

"I… I can't. It's too much." Her lashes fluttered, but did not close until she buried her face against her arm and bit her lower lip to hold in a yelp.

Suddenly, he removed his hands and she gasped from the loss. She could feel the heat of him as his body leaned over hers. Twisting her head back to look at him, she saw a glint of laughter in his eyes. "Sara, you really must learn to relax."

"I was relaxed… a half hour ago. Now, I'm just coiled up tighter than a spring." She wanted his hands back on her, but she didn't know how much more she could take.

"I can fix that," he chuckled.

"I know you can," she spat out exasperated. Foreplay was one thing, but this… she didn't know what to call it. "Please, Aeric."

With a quick shuffle of their bodies, he was soon cradled between her thighs, his manhood pressed against her belly. Her body quivered from the sensations once again flooding through her body as his hand cupped her breast. His mouth followed close behind and suckled the taut nub.

She lightly trailed her fingers over his back to rest in the length of his hair, entwining them within the dark strands. Her moans of pleasure encouraged him to continue. "Aeric… mmm… oh, yes." Again, she gasped as his hand roamed down the side of her body, now slippery from the oil. Pushing her legs further apart, he rubbed her inner thigh and heard her gasp as his fingers found her little nub, stroking it feverishly as he filled her.

This time she didn't try to hold back her cry of pleasure.

Lying spent from their heated exertions, they snuggled, and their bodies pressed firmly together facing each other, their limbs tangled possessively.

But although her body had relaxed and found release, her troubled thoughts returned with a vengeance. During her peaceful sleep, her nightly fantasies played merrily with her sanity and she awoke fitfully.

The bed was still warm where she reached out and felt for Aeric, but he wasn't there. The sound of running water grabbed her attention and realizing that he was in the shower, she lay back, clutching the covers to her chest. The dreams had been so vivid that she woke with absolute certainty that she'd find Grissom lying next to her, his chest bare, the sheet haphazardly covering his lower extremities, or he'd be resting on his elbow, leaning over her and watching her sleep. And instead of disappointment, she'd been hopeful.

The turmoil had taken its toll on her. The tears slipped from her eyes and she swiped at them furiously. She didn't want Aeric to see them. She didn't want Aeric to see her at all.

Stunned at her sudden conclusion, she scrambled from the bed and dressed frantically. She couldn't face him. Finding the pad of paper she'd seen earlier, she scribbled a note and left it on his pillow.

By the time she made it to the lobby, her heart had quit racing and she'd caught her breath. The guilt at leaving Aeric like she had began to settle heavily in her belly. It was with great difficulty that she made it through the lobby doors without turning back.


	12. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

The Las Vegas Crime Lab bustled with activity, the city never sleeping and the criminals seeming to come out of the woodwork. Sara stared transfixed at the glass partition of the Trace Lab, observing quietly the interactions of not only her teammates, but the lab technicians as well.

Greg passed by; preoccupied with a new case he'd been assigned. So preoccupied was he that when Grissom rounded the corner they bumped into each other, sending the file and all its contents fluttering to the floor. Startled from the impact, they both bent over to gather up the papers, smashing their heads together in the process. When they came back up both rubbing their heads at the same time and in almost synchronized motions, Sara chuckled openly at the uncanny resemblance. She half expected Grissom to take the file out of Greg's grasp and whack him over the top of the head with it. Uncharacteristically, however, Grissom remained calm. Instead of berating Greg for his inattentiveness, he initiated a conversation over what he'd been so engrossed in.

Before Greg could really begin explaining, Nick came out from the DNA lab, commanding Grissom's attention with some new key piece of evidence, leaving Greg standing in the hall. Sara was about to get up and go to assuage Greg's forlorn look. But again, Grissom did a 360 turn back to Greg and waved him on to join them.

This completely new interaction between Grissom and the team had been near non-existent for a while. Or Sara was just now noticing it. It wasn't as though she ever got to just sit and watch the play by play in the team's dynamics.

What really caught her eye now, however, was Grissom interactions and attentiveness to the others and even to her. When she returned from her week's vacation after leaving Aeric at the hotel, she did some truly deep soul searching and the one thing she kept coming back to was how much better she felt – when she was alone. Before her trip to India, she would go insane if she had to spend any time alone that wasn't involved with a case. She either had to be working all the time or she'd be sleeping. And she never could sleep very long. Now, however, she found that during the week of time-off, she read a few books, did some shopping and even started a regular exercise routine. Twice, she drove out past the city limits to a secluded location, away from the Vegas lights, to stargaze. It had been many years since she'd done that.

Finally, it occurred to her what was happening. She was comfortable in her own skin. She was comfortable being a woman and not dependent on another soul.

_I am woman. Hear me roar._

She couldn't help the throaty giggle that escaped her and shyly she glanced around the lab to make sure no one had noticed. Someone might think she wasn't dealing with a full deck. She knew she was alone, yet the tickle on the back of her neck she usually associated with Grissom – her little Grissom radar – made her whirl anyway, but he wasn't there. Shrugging, she went back to work.

The week after her last day with Aeric had been great in one way, but extremely heartbreaking in other ways. He took it hard. They'd met at the fountains outside of the Bellagio the following night and just walked for hours – talking about everything and nothing. By the time she'd left him standing in the parking lot while she drove off, she had tears in her eyes. There had been an undeniable attraction between them from the beginning and from which a romance had developed. But deep within they had become friends, and that friendship would last, hopefully, a lifetime. He called her before leaving and told her he'd be in touch. He had understood and not tried to devalue her feelings. His validation wasn't necessary, but it felt good all the same.

Her choice had come as a hard shock at first, that of choosing herself, her life, her own well being over any relationship with a man. That was until she realized how refreshing it was to not have to rely on or seek approval from someone else. She'd chosen to live her life in such a way as to bring the most fulfillments – for herself. The choice gave her a whole new outlook on life, her work and her friendships. Her work became secondary to her friendships. She spent more time with the guys, especially in mentoring Greg. Seeing Greg in a new light, she realized how much he reminded her of, well, her. Not just in his relentless flirting, but in his relentless search for validation. If she could help him find it in himself, as she had, then she could call her tutoring a success.

As for Grissom, he'd been distant that first week. He wouldn't work with her and was never around at the end of shift when she'd leave. Then after a couple of weeks it was as if they'd warped back in time. He bantered with her, joking even when it fit. It was all in small doses, as if he was working at a friendship.

Her relationship with Aeric soon came up in conversation, however. She'd been rushing out of the break room to make her new Art Appreciation class with Professor Michael Kaplan when Catherine and Grissom came in. When she tried to slip past the two of them, Catherine stopped her, saying, "Aeric must be in town for you to be leaving on time." Sara turned back to them at the door and shook her head. "Aeric and I aren't together. We haven't been since the fundraiser." And with that she'd left.

The following night as she was leaving, she said her good-bye to Grissom as usual but hesitated. She turned back to him and he looked up from his work, peering over the rim of his glasses.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It wasn't because of you."

His brow furrowed grasping at understanding; he leant back in his chair thinking. "What isn't because of me?"

She took a step back into the office. "I decided that Aeric wasn't what I needed. But what happened that night wasn't based on _what happened that night_." Her head tilted in thought, her eyes drifting to the side in memory. "I realized for the first time that what I needed most..." She smiled brilliantly. "What I'd been searching for all this time wasn't something that could be found in another's eyes." She pressed the palm of her hand to her chest, tapping. "It was always right here."

Nothing more was said. They stared at each other a long moment until Sara gave him a dazzling smile and headed home.

Her distracted gaze once again focusing on her surroundings, she saw Nick, Greg and Warrick walking off with their coats in hand. A quick glance at the clock told her it was end of shift. And she had nowhere in particular to be today, nothing to keep her at work, no appointments. Nothing to do but relax, maybe read out by the pool or head to the lake. The idea of going to the lake refreshed her synapses. Cataloguing her possibilities, she missed the sound of footsteps. The shadow looming over her table was unmistakable, however.

Looking up, she found Grissom leaning against the threshold. He gestured toward the items on the table and asked, "Did you get anywhere with that?"

Shaking her head, she sighed and sat back. "No, this stuff could've been there for days, weeks even. I was thinking of asking you to send Greg back tonight to do some canvassing."

"I think I can give him a few hours on it. Night off, right?"

"Hmm, yeah."

"Any plans."

"Some," she replied with a smile. "Nothing too major. A little Penne Romanoff, glass of wine and my new novel by Linda Howard perhaps."

"Quiet evening."

"Yes, sounds lovely doesn't it?"

"Lonely actually."

Sara's eyes lifted to meet his. Not falling for the bait, she said, "Comforting."

He nodded in approval, a smile gracing his face and reaching his eyes. "Something everyone needs a little bit of... comfort. _Happiness is like a butterfly. The more you chase it, the more it will elude you. But if you turn your attention to other things, it comes softly and sits on your shoulder_."

Sara scrunched her face up, searching for a name to fit the quotation but came up empty. She gave Grissom a questioning look.

He answered, "Unknown... but never more fitting." He held her gaze then winked, walking away with a bit of a spring in his step.

Sara stared after him. If she was a betting person, she'd layout an easy hundred that he had just told her the butterfly was symbolic of him. Her breath caught and her heart did something it hadn't in a long time with him, it fluttered... like a butterflies wings.

* * *

A/N: Finally! I can now call this fic finished. It's been a long haul to get this completed and with some help from great authors and readers alike. My thanks goes out to LSI for helping me get this over with. Your creativity brings a classy touch to the ending of this fic. I also want to thank Chicklit for allowing me to drop the name of one of her own characters. There have been numerous others who've supported me through the beginning when it appeared this was only a Sara/Other pairing, but this fic delved into the G/S'hip just as much. I hope you enjoyed the ending and if you are a diehard fan of G/S, you'll get the meaning. 


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